The Hunted

by Steve Scheunemann

  Calling up their ID’s on his PDT Malone sent his orders, “Mtumbe, McLeish, I want you two to go to Squaw Harbor and take over for Halsey-Smythe. I need her ready to interrogate any new prisoners.

  “Track down and bring in my wayward little boy. The girl is a Hunter and one of us, but she is expendable. Bring in the boy, dead if you have to but alive if you can. I’ll send Depardieu to join you if it looks like she is needed.

  “I want them caught. The girl has orders to stay on the renegade’s side until she can uncover their leadership. She’ll fight for him. She will not break discipline, and because of the nature of her assignment, I cannot contact her to change the orders, so you’ll have to treat her as an enemy. Kill her if you have to.”

  Malone was unsure if his orders concerning Abbey would convince anyone that she was still under discipline and was a part of his team. He could not order her death without revealing she was a rogue agent, and then she might gain some credibility for her claims. He needed her quietly caught so he could eliminate her himself. He’d like to let Halsey-Smythe peel her like an onion, but that would expose Malone to too much risk.

  He’d have to interrogate her himself and eliminate her quietly. Painfully, to be sure, but quietly.

  Malone quietly enjoyed his newfound power. Right now at his orders planes were being rerouted. A half-dozen 400-pound Great Hounds were being loaded. Mtumbe and McLeish were commandeering whatever they deemed necessary and Depardieu was readying her Packwood Eliminator.

  Between Mtumbe and the dogs there was no way the youngsters could escape. If Depardieu could get within two miles of them and had a clean line of sight, then it would all be over.

  His stomach burning with acid, Malone contemplated the fact that one novice Hunter and a piece of genetic trash stood so close to bringing down all he’d worked for. No. It could not be allowed to happen. He decided to commit one more asset to the fray and ordered Delacruz to take over for the pilot on the flight, and to then acquire whatever aircraft he’d need for a search and destroy mission in the mountains.

  Four Hunters sent to catch one rookie and the freak. It should be an easy kill. Each of the selected Hunters was the best there was in a given area. A tracker, dog handler, sharpshooter, and pilot, they should be far more than enough for this task. Still, Malone kept remembering how the boy had held his own with him, and how Malone had been forced to defend as much as attack. Suddenly the acid in his stomach churned even higher and he slammed his fist through the television screen where he’d just so happily watched a man cut and bled to death.

  27

  June 29, 2080

  Northwest Territory, North America

  It hadn’t taken the BGP long to find the launch and the search had commenced back in town. Matt and Abbey were still able to monitor much of the BGP team’s comings and goings via Abbey’s PDT. Malone still maintained the fiction that she was a part of his team, and so all team orders were available for her to see. The device could download direct from the satellite and could also upload that way as well, unless, as Matt and Abbey had done at the research station, one needed to access the public nets. BGP issued PDTs could do quite a lot, but for worldwide distribution, they’d needed more. Viewing ‘Special Operations’ team orders was well within her PDT’s capabilities.

  They knew Mtumbe and McLeish were after them. They knew Delacruz would be piloting for them and that Depardieu was on her way. She’d have a Packwood Eliminator against the 7mm magnum Matt had acquired. That meant she’d be able to hit targets at more than twice the range Matt could hope to reach with the hunting rifle. She’d also have unlimited ammo and support. Then there was the best tracker known to exist, and the dogs. Big, hairy brutes with vile temperaments and a lust for the hunt that was rivaled only by the Hunters themselves.

  It seemed the odds were stacked pretty high against their survival, but they did not give in to despair. Instead, they planned their next move. Matt believed that the uplink at the Silent Heart monastery might well have survived the BGP’s attack all those years ago. It was well hidden and not really anywhere near the monastery itself, being a good ten miles distant.

  If they could make it that far they’d dump the next installment in the ‘Angus Chronicles’ as it had come to be called between them. They’d be on ground that Matt knew better than anyone alive and, while it might not balance the scales, any advantage they could find was to be exploited. The Northwest Territory to Colorado was a long way for the two fugitives who had just catapulted to the top of the most wanted list of the largest and most efficient collection of man hunters the world had ever seen. Every local cop or officer, operative or agent of any kind would be looking for them. The local animal control officer would have their pictures and be on the lookout. Every public place they might go would have cameras, and those recordings would be analyzed at least twice daily. What few satellites were still in orbit would be searching for them. Delacruz would not be the only pilot aloft searching.

  The 4X4 they’d stolen had been well equipped. In addition to the rifle there had been a quality blade about seven inches long, some fishing gear, binoculars, matches, a hatchet, sleeping bags, tent and warm clothing. The clothes didn’t fit either of them well, but that need had been adequately seen to while crossing Siberia. The lack of better weapons still worried Matt a little, but both he and Abbey were experts at improvised weapons and booby traps. Of course, the Hunters following them could say the same and they had infinitely more experience than either Matt or Abbey. Matt had successfully avoided the BGP for years while traveling with one of the most wanted men on the planet, but Angus had done most of that while Matt had remained ignorant as to just how seriously his friend had been pursued. Still, Angus had taught Matt, all the while playing off his very real and necessary precautions as training for Matt. Well, in actuality, he’d never been playing them off as anything. They were very real training for Matt, which just happened to serve the dual purpose of keeping Angus alive. Thinking about this, Matt realized that in the end, they’d gotten Angus. Angus had been where he was because of Matt. He’d taken risks he never would have alone, to protect Matt. In the end he’d faced down the man who he’d been successfully avoiding for a decade, in order to give Matt a chance to live. Had he taught Matt enough? Could Matt and Abbey make it over 1000 miles to the monastery, and beyond?

  Matt had chosen the uplink at the Silent Heart for several reasons. It was remote, and no one was there. Malone had had parts of Halsey-Smythe’s interrogation sent to the entire team via PDT. Matt and Abbey had not particularly cared for the man, but no one deserved the death the director had been subjected to, especially one who had been guilty of nothing.

  Abbey was able to access the schedule for the few satellites still in orbit, so they took precautions during the times they’d be overhead. It slowed them down and necessitated moving at odd hours of the day and night, but it was far better to avoid detection than to save time on their journey. Avoiding the satellites and being constantly vigilant for aircraft overhead was part of it, but they also used every trick either of them knew to confuse or eliminate the trail they were leaving. Neither of them knew Mtumbe, but if even half the hype was true, he’d find them. They just needed it to take as long as possible.

  The Great Hounds were, fortunately, sight hounds. That meant that sniffing out a trail was not their strength. They were fair at it and had some training in that direction, but they were designed for speed and stamina. They could run you down even if you were in a car. Once they sighted their prey they would not stop, short of death, and that death would not be easy to deliver. As big as some bears, and just as hairy and full of muscle, it could easily take more than one shot from the 7mm to put one down. According to the data they had, McLeish had brought five of the brutes. If it took even two shots for a couple of them, Matt would be down by half his ammunition. He’d have to think about other weapons to handle the hounds.

  “Matt, are we going to make it?”

  �
�Do we have any options, Sweetheart?”

  Abbey liked the nickname. It made her feel warm and loved. It was a personal endearment he had only for her. Just hearing it chased away her worry for a time. Just reveling in his love for her, realizing that it was a constant and enduring love, made her believe that she could do almost anything. If Matt believed in her and in himself, and if she believed in Matt, then by extension she had to believe in her own worth. She was becoming someone who she might actually like. She remained baffled as to why Matt loved her. She was a killer, or at least had been. She’d almost tried to kill him and would have had she not come to know him first. What made her worthy of his love? She knew she was beautiful, but that did not explain the love of someone like him. She knew she was talented and smart, but she had never been a good person. In fact, she’d committed such evil acts. She’d killed innocent babies during her time with the deletion squad. She’d had no choice, and she’d tried to do it mercifully with none of the relish others showed, but she’d killed those babies just the same. There was her puppy too. She’d loved that guy, but when the order had come to kill him, she took just thirty minutes to say goodbye and snapped his neck. There was so much about her to revile and as far as she could see, nothing worth loving. She wanted to change that, and given time she would become worthy of Matt’s love. Not for Matt’s sake, but because he inspired her to want to be a better person for herself. She wanted so badly to be able to love herself, so she could love him in return.

  Returning to the moment, she replied,” I guess not, huh? We’ll make it because we have too.

  “Matt, lets dump the whole story next time. It’ll get retold enough times that word will get to Angus’ friends, and I want to be sure it all gets out even if we get caught. Besides, I’ll bet the resistance is already looking for us, too. After the first installment of the ‘Chronicles’ went out you can bet they wanted to meet you and me. They’re already looking for us. After the rest goes out we’ll just have to let them find us.”

  “While avoiding Malone and company, plus the rest of the ‘civilized’ world,” quipped Matt.

  “Okay, we’ll do it. This started as only a means to an end, but I want everyone to know Angus’ story. I want that because I loved him and no one else knows what he sacrificed for me. I want that because Angus believed in the eventual freedom of the world, and if we can’t accomplish that, at least we can let them know that they are prisoners. “

  Glancing at his PDT, Matt realized the satellite they’d been waiting out had passed overhead. Getting up from where he’d been laying in the hollow underneath some boulders and fallen timber, he pulled Abbey out of a similar hidey-hole a few feet away.

  He climbed the highest tree he could find and, taking out the binoculars, scanned their back trail for twenty minutes. He then spent ten peering at their intended route, and then after another ten spent checking all other directions he returned to their back trail for another ten minutes. Just as he was about to lower the glasses, he spotted them. Five Great Hounds and their handler. They were more than five miles back, but they were there. Matt did not see Mtumbe, so he was forced to assume the tracker was even closer. At least their sniper was being held in reserve. She was staying in whatever town happened to be closest, rather than deploy to the field. She was doing the flyovers with Delacruz. Matt had seen several planes and a couple of helicopters that he was certain were being piloted by the BGP pilot. They’d been far off, but obviously doing search patterns.

  “We’ve got company,” Matt called down.

  By the time he hit the ground Abbey had their gear packed and ready. She’d already disposed of the rainbow trout they’d had for lunch, and had made all sign of their camp disappear. Matt knew Mtumbe would eventually find it, but it would not be easy. Then he would spend some time learning what he could from the site. That would be precious little. Matt and Abbey might not be able to hide their passage from the master tracker, but that is all he would glean from their camp. The satellite had passed low near the eastern horizon so had not had direct look down at their site. They’d been able to cut the fish thin and dry it in the sun while keeping it out of sight of one of the three remaining satellites that they had to contend with in this hemisphere. That satellite, if it had been able to see them, could have brought in a picture with enough clarity that the BGP would know their respiration rate from watching their chests rise and fall. The satellites were a nuisance, but one easily avoided.

  Checking the rifle to be sure there was a round in the chamber, Matt slung it over his shoulder and they began to climb higher into rougher territory, in the hopes it would prove too difficult a climb for the hounds. McLeish and the hounds had not acted as if they had spotted Matt or Abbey, but rather like hounds working out the trail. Were they following Matt and Abbey or simply following Mtumbe? If Mtumbe was far enough ahead, maybe they should lay in wait for him. They could ambush him at two-to-one odds and eliminate the surest means the BGP had of finding them. Planes could be hidden from, satellites were only an inconvenience, and the hounds were not world class trackers, but given the chance, Mtumbe would run them to ground.

  Suddenly certain that the tracker was far closer than the hounds, who were in fact following his trail and not their own, Matt decided.

  “We need to deal with Mtumbe. He’s a Hunter, but so were you and if I can stand toe-to-toe with Malone then I should be able to take Mtumbe. We’re going to set up a little ambush.

  “Matt, he’ll spot it. That’s what he does.”

  “I know, we’ll let him spot it. We won’t make it easy, but he’ll spot it. I’ll be such a tempting target that he won’t be able to hold himself back.

  28

  June 28, 2080

  Northwest Territory, North America

  Mtumbe was gaining on them, he could tell. Never in all his years of tracking had he tracked such elusive prey. It had to be the girl. She was, although young, a fully trained Hunter, and Director Malone had personally recruited her for her current assignment. She was to act the part of a traitor right until the end even if it meant killing Mtumbe. He needed to keep that in mind at all times. She’d ‘rescued’ the boy in Japan and crossed half the world with him, so he was probably learning a few things from her along the way. The director had warned them that the boy was very good, probably better than some Hunters, but Mtumbe just couldn’t bring himself to believe it. He himself might not be quite as good as Malone or a few others on the team, but he considered that he could take more than half of them, and this was the best the BGP had to offer. He’d had a good feeling when he’d accepted the offer to join the team. Well, maybe offer was too strong a word. It had been a politely phrased order. While at first he’d been disturbed that it took him from his cherry assignment as the BGP’s lead tracker, Malone had promised him more interesting work than he was then seeing.

  He’d been right, too. First it was the M-100, Director Malone’s new toy. What an amazing tool it had turned out to be. It would make capture a much more interesting proposition. He couldn’t wait to try it out on the boy. Maybe the Hunter too, since she’d remain true to her assignment. Of course, Malone had authorized them to inform her that her infiltration orders had been changed and she was to assist in the capture of the gene trash. He’d warned them though that it probably would not work. Her orders had entailed a proviso that Malone could only cancel them in person.

  Mtumbe would try to update her on her new mission status, but doubted very much he’d succeed. He expected he’d have to fight her. He only hoped she would stop short of his having to kill her. She was such a fine looking piece; it would be a shame not to take advantage of all the solitude they’d have way out here in the big woods. The thought that she might not be willing never slowed down Mtumbe’s plans.

  Tracking the pair had proved far more challenging than he’d expected. He knew what Hunters were taught about tracking and all of them were world class, but tracking and hiding tracks or laying down misleading ones was a whol
e different process.

  As much skill as they had shown in evading him, he was better. He’d scoped out every trick. The doubling back, wading in streams, crossing only on rocks, taking to the trees for long stretches. Each trick had bought them some time, but that was all. He followed relentlessly and he was closing the gap. He had no need to hide from satellites and search planes. When the course was clear he could move as fast as he wanted and as prudent tracking allowed. He’d almost lost them right at the start, before he’d gained an appreciation for the skill his adversaries were displaying. The tracks had been clear, but not obviously so. Someone who was good and, would have lost almost any normal tracker, had obscured them. Mtumbe was far better than good so it had appeared clumsy to him. Just like someone trained by the BGP would do. He’d seen all the telltale signs. The things only the best would spot. Erasing tracks left evidence of its own. An area too clean of tracks was as much a giveaway as nice clear size eleven boot prints in the snow to someone of Mtumbe’s skill.

  He’d proceeded quickly and could tell he was gaining ground. He thought the chase would be done by nightfall. Then the tracks had just stopped. After more than a mile of easy tracking they were just gone. He’d spent more than an hour widening his search trying to pick up the trail again, to no avail. Finally he went backwards along the trail. Sometimes the reverse perspective offered things one missed following along the direction of travel. After back tracking for about three quarters of a mile he found where they’d left the obvious path. The deception had taken them hours to set up, but had probably gained them twice the amount of time they had spent. For many other trackers, even other Hunters, it would have lost them completely. He’d worked it out and gained a whole new respect for his prey. After that his tracking had been slower. You always had to check the blind trails, you could never assume that they were tricks, but when you already suspected the false trail, you could prove and eliminate it faster.