Primeval egt-5

by David L. Golemon

  The commando screamed in agony hearing the loud snap of his own leg. He reached for his leg, crying out in Russian. "Please, please," the soldier whimpered, trying to say the words and at the same moment trying to catch his hitching breath. The beast tilted its large head as if it was listening to the smaller man's plea. It grunted and then raised its head to the night sky and roared. It raised the club and struck its chest, a blow that would have caved a normal man's ribs in. It struck its chest three times and then roared again, this time even louder. It then looked down and fixed the man with its burning eyes. The thick brows arched and then it growled that low, menacing, and bone-chilling sound. The soldier could see the teeth that were flanked by the six-inch canines. The animal roared again, raising its head back to the sky, spreading the sound about the forest in triumph. Suddenly, the beast stopped and looked for a final time down at the struggling human before it. Then it raised the club and ended the man's pain with a sudden and vicious blow, burying the head and the yell for help a foot into the ground, so the only thing left twitching in the moonlight were the man's torso and legs.

  * * *

  Sarah and Ryan, flanked by Marla heard the roar of the animal. Ryan suddenly realized that the shooting had stopped. He looked around as the cry of the beast subsided. As he did, Marla screamed as something flew through the night to strike the rear of the store with a loud wet sound. Sarah turned away as she ran, realizing it was a man's body that hit and then fell over feet first from the wall of the store.

  "Run, Ryan, run! They're here!"

  Ryan didn't care a whole lot for that "they're here" remark. He knew the girl wasn't talking about the Russians. "Oh, shit," he said as he limped along, finally helped by Sarah. "I think I owe the girl an apology!" he screamed out of breath as they finally made it to the trees.

  As the bruised and battered Sarah, Marla, and Ryan made the tree line, the forest became alive with movement and they were seeing for the first time the landlords and founders of the great northwest.

  The Chulimantan was no longer a mere legend.

  RUSSIAN BASE CAMP

  NORTH OF THE STIKINE RIVER

  Jack, Carl, Will, and Farbeaux had their hands wire-tied behind their backs. The commandos joked as they followed their orders, with Jack and Henri the only ones to pick up most of what they said. They joked on how easy it had been to capture the highly regarded Collins and his men. Jack kept his temper in check as his eyes roamed the camp, looking for any sign of Lynn.

  As he looked around, the four men were unceremoniously pushed to the ground. Will still being weak from Alexander's blow to his head, fell completely over onto his side.

  "Damn it," Everett hissed. "Will, are you still with us?" Carl frowned when he saw a small trickle of blood coming from Mendenhall's right ear. "You hang in there, Lieutenant; we've been in worse situations."

  "We have?" Will hissed through clenched teeth as he struggled to sit up.

  "Stay down," Collins ordered. "We'll be here for a while."

  As Jack spoke, he saw a small tent just at the back of the clearing. There was a rather large guard watching it, standing only a few paces in front of its zippered flap. His eyes moved on, but kept coming back to the small blue tent.

  "Are you seeing the same thing I am seeing, Colonel?" Henri asked as he tried to make himself more comfortable and failing miserably.

  Before Jack could answer that he noticed the lone blue tent, the zipper of the very same enclosure lowered slowly and then the face Jack had been waiting to see appeared in the glow of the fire light. Lynn nodded her head quickly, letting Collins know she was alright. Before she could duck her head back inside after delivering her silent message, the large Spetsnaz in the front of the tent turned quickly and delivered a savage blow with his combat boot directly into Lynn's face, throwing her three feet backward.

  Farbeaux and Everett knew what was going to happen a moment before it did. They tried to catch Jack in between their large frames, squeezing as hard as they could, trying to keep Collins wedged between them. Jack would have none of it. He was standing in a flash of movement; one minute he was sitting, the next he was on his feet and moving the thirty-five feet toward the tent where his sister had just been brutally assaulted.

  The guard, smiling after making sure his charge wasn't getting up for a while, turned and saw a split second too late the American colonel as he approached. He tried to get his weapon unslung but Jack was much too fast for him. He struck out with his own boot, first knocking the AK-47 away and then with a second hop and kick, caught the guard squarely on the chin. The motion took a split second to happen, freezing the other commandos who had been totally caught off guard. They started moving in force toward Collins.

  "Look out, Jack!" Everett called out, starting to stand but being knocked flat by others who contained the situation before they had to shoot the three men Collins had left behind.

  Sagli, Deonovich, and Alexander stepped from the technician's tent. They saw what was happening and then saw the fifteen men heading toward the lone American.

  "Stop them," Alexander ordered Sagli.

  The Russian stepped forward and held his men at bay. "Nyet!" he shouted.

  "It's time your mercenaries find out just who it is they are dealing with," Punchy said as he watched the large guard gain his feet.

  The Spetsnaz spit blood from his mouth and then felt the cracked chin bone where Jack's boot had connected with it. The man slowly grinned through his pain, putting it aside as he glanced at Sagli. It seemed his boss was going to let him dispose of the American regardless of his importance.

  Collins looked behind him at the fifteen others who stood watching and not advancing on him, then took a quick glance at Alexander, who stood silhouetted in the light streaming from the tent he stood in front of.

  "Don't let me down, Jack, I'm risking a lot here," the Canadian said.

  The Spetsnaz slowly reached to his web belt and removed a large hunting knife. Its edge gleamed in the light of the rising moon, and tinted red by the blazing fire at the center of the camp.

  Collins watched the man's feet first, then he raised his eyes to the arm holding the pointed and very sharp weapon. As his eyes climbed higher, he saw the man's eyes. They were dull and expressionless, and Jack knew immediately the man was far too confident of the kill. With his hands tied behind his back, Collins slowly turned in a wide circle, his eyes never wavering from the large brute before him.

  The guard — standing at least six foot six inches — towered over Jack even though he was slightly bent at the waist. He smiled through his blood-stained teeth and spit again.

  Farbeaux watched Jack closely like a future adversary that he needed to study. He admired the calm way Collins took on the man before him. He saw that Jack could have struck out at anytime he wanted, but he knew the colonel wanted to make this man suffer for his assault on his sister and knew the Spetsnaz would eventually make the move that could possibly get him killed.

  The large guard lunged at Collins, who easily stepped away from the knife and the man's heavy body, then he brought his leg high into the air and the boot once more came down — this time on the man's arm, the one not holding the knife because that was the arm Jack knew the man used for balance. Everyone in camp heard the forearm snap as the large Spetsnaz fell to the ground, immediately rolling and regaining his feet. The useless left arm dangled before him. The man became enraged as he charged again; this time Jack stood his ground and at almost four feet away he once more jumped and kicked out with his foot. This time the blow caught the Russian squarely on the side of his face, the roughness of Jack's boot ripping the man's right ear away and sending it into the night.

  The Spetsnaz watching couldn't help it; they started laughing at their comrade's predicament as his ear took flight. They were acting like this was a prize fight put on for their amusement.

  Jack tired of the game. He thought quickly and knew that no matter what just happened to Lynn, he was not a sadist.
As the large guard turned, grabbing the right side of his face as he did, Collins lashed out one last time, spinning horizontally in the air, the heel of his right boot catching the man solidly on the cheek bone, sending him flying to the left and down to the ground where he tried to rise, and then flopped into the sand and rock. For his part, Collins hit the ground, unable to balance himself with his hands tied behind his back. He slammed into the rock and sand, and then just lay there, face down, trying to get his thoughts and breathing under control once more.

  Alexander started clapping, slow and loud from the tent, making sure everyone of the Spetsnaz mercenaries saw him do it.

  "Damn, Jack, my money is still on you when things get tight." He looked from the downed man to the other Spetsnaz around him. "I hope the lesson here has been learned," he said, turning toward Sagli and Deonovich. It was Sagli who stepped away from the tent and interpreted what Alexander had just said. The commandos just watched and listened with their newfound respect for the American.

  Punchy Alexander said something to Deonovich that the others could not hear. The large Russian raised a brow, but followed his orders. He pulled out a German-made Glock nine-millimeter automatic and quickly stepped up to the man Jack had so ruthlessly put down. Just as Collins rolled onto his side, finally under control, he watched as Deonovich aimed and placed a bullet into the back of the Russian's head, slamming him back to the ground from where he was attempting to rise.

  At that moment all inside the camp heard the drumming of wood on wood. It was quick and sporadic across the Stikine and just to the north. Alexander chose to ignore the strange sound, not wanting to lend credence to it.

  "Stupidity will not be tolerated," Alexander said loudly and waited while his words were delivered in Russian. "This is not a game and you are not dealing with fools." He turned and watched Sagli say his words. Then he said something to the smaller Russian and watched as he went to the tent and checked on Lynn. He stepped out and nodded to Alexander that the woman was okay. "Allow the colonel five minutes with his sister, then return him to his men."

  Sagli started to reach for Jack to help him to his feet, and then he thought better of it. He nodded toward the tent and Jack, for his part, rolled and sat up. He watched Sagli as he waved some men over to remove the body of their fallen comrade. With one more respectful look at the restrained Collins, Sagli smiled and moved away; as he did, a sudden flash of lightning streaked across the sky and that was soon followed by a massive thunderclap.

  Alexander looked over at Everett and Farbeaux and smiled, and then he looked up at the sky where fast-moving black clouds blotted out the moonlight, and then he finally turned away and reentered the large tent.

  Jack didn't stand up, he just tried to get his breathing under control. Hands were on him, around him, and he could smell his sister. It was the same smell she had always had since childhood: one of roses in late summer. Even through the sweat and grime of captivity and the strong odor of antiseptic, he knew it was her, and he buried his head into her body as she hugged him. For the briefest of moments, that hug was enough and they stayed that way for a full minute as the first of the raindrops started falling from a sky that was fast becoming angry.

  "You have never ceased to amaze me as to how you can get into so much trouble. How are you doing, little sister?" Jack asked as he finally looked into the bruised face of Lynn.

  Both lips were swollen and her left eye was closing from the kick to the face she had just received, compliments of the late Spetsnaz guard just now being tossed out near the river.

  Lynn smiled back down at her brother and placed a hand on his cheek. Jack saw the bandage covering her missing finger, but he chose not to dwell on it because of his anger being so close to the surface.

  "It's good to see you, Jack," she said, shaking her head. "By the way, this is one hell of a rescue."

  "Hey, we have our moments, although this isn't the best advertisement for us," he said as he sat up with some effort.

  Jack again wiggled toward the front of the tent and made himself as comfortable as possible. He once more took in the appearance of his sister. She was in rough shape, but he knew it could have been far worse with the bunch that had taken her.

  "Sorry about Punchy Jack. I knew you two were close."

  "I should have acted on my instincts, sis, the stupid bastard gave himself away in Los Angeles, but I just couldn't get myself to believe it. You were right all along. Now, if the rest of what you and your bosses think is happening is true, we may have a mess on our hands."

  "Okay, everything we believed about Alexander back at the Farm is true. The trail he left in his computerespionage led us right to him. But what in the hell is he doing out here, Jack?"

  "I had a feeling I had screwed up at some point and blown my cover, Jack, where was it?" Punchy asked. He had caught them off guard as he eased himself behind them while they spoke.

  "Well, Lynn figured you for one of the bad guys over a year ago. When she told me I was alerted, as one of your closest friends, of course, to watch for Providence that you were as she said: a lying, dirty, treasonous son of a bitch. But to answer your question, confirmation of you going rogue came in L.A. It was the vest. You refused wearing bulletproof vests for fifteen years, swore you would never wear a safety net, that if agents were dumb enough to get shot, they deserved the consequences." Jack looked up and eyed the larger man. "Personally, I think it was because it made you look fatter than you are." The words were delivered slow and cold, as was Jack's way.

  "Damn, I should have remembered that you had a memory to beat all hell." Alexander raised his coat collar as he examined the sky. Then he looked down at Lynn, who wanted to be sick with him standing so close to her and Jack.

  "Why the murder in Seattle, Punchy? I know it wasn't for a damned diamond, or wagons full of gold. Hell, in your position you could steal half the treasury of the Canadian government and get away with it, so why?" Collins asked.

  "It's called covering our tracks — black operations class 101 at MI-5, Jack, you know that. We didn't need anyone out there who could lead your intelligence apparatus or Canada's to us before we had our prize."

  "What about Doc Ellenshaw?"

  Punchy Alexander laughed as he leaned down and slapped Jack on the back, then he looked over at Lynn.

  "Can you imagine my consternation when Jack's little girlfriend, Sarah, walked in with the one man we couldn't find for ten whole years, Professor Ellenshaw? Just who in the hell do you work for, Jack, that you would know a crazy, far-out bastard as that?"

  "My new friends are far better than my old ones. By the way, Punchy, you know I'm going to kill you for what you did to the doc, don't you?" Jack said as the rain started falling in earnest.

  Alexander became silent, the laughing had ceased and the humor had gone out of the situation.

  "Let me guess at your interest in covering your tracks and why the doc was so prominent in your plans to cover them."

  "Give it a try, Jack," Alexander said, his smile completely gone.

  "Ellenshaw filed a report with the Washington State authorities, or hell, even with Stanford upon his return from Canada in '68, and you got a hold of that report through computer espionage, which my baby sister here uncovered over a year ago and traced it back to you. With the reports the doc filed he became an interest to you. You tried to find him so he could lead you here without the maps and the journal because of his relationship with L. T. Lattimer, but he was with me in a place you could never imagine, lost to everyone but a select few." He looked up into the rain at Punchy. "Just what in the hell are you after, Punchy, that would compel you to commit treason and murder innocent people?"

  "It took me years and years, Jack, my boy. Using every avenue I could find, any generated report coming from Canada and Alaska. Every word laid down on paper — until I came across an obscure mention of L. T. Lattimer and a gold find back in 1968." A powerful lightning bolt made Alexander flinch and duck, but both Lynn and Jack s
aw the smile spread on his lips. "Then my keyword was hit… Keyword — computers made my life so much easier, Jack. One small little word placed into a far-fetched report by a hippy grad student from Stanford University — your Professor Ellenshaw. A guilt-fed report on a missing man in the Canadian wilderness, a man who left behind a description of a place where not only one treasure resided, but possibly two. And tomorrow, I will recover the second item and be off, and you, Jack, will play a large part in the happily-ever-after part of my story. By the way, if that little girlfriend is still at the fishing camp, I'll tell you, Jack, I wouldn't mind getting some of that." Alexander smiled, then that turned into a laugh, and then he turned and made his way out of the heavy rain.

  Jack watched Alexander trudge through the rain. Then he saw him turn and face him once more.

  "Brainteaser, Jack. Remember our first mission together in 1989, our little foray into the Vancouver wilderness?"

  Collins didn't say anything as the memory of that nighttime HALO drop into Canada back when he was a captain came back to him. The search for the prize was a wild goose chase, as the hundred other missions before that had been. That particular search had been on since October 1962, and now Jack finally realized that his worst fears were confirmed, and that Lynn's and her bosses at CIA had been on the right track all along, with only one of their theories about Alexander falling far short of the mark.

  Punchy saw the concern spread across Jack's face. He laughed out loud and then turned away, slapping his thighs in laughter.

  "Doesn't sound like he's speaking about gold, does it?" Lynn asked.