Bombardier 12 was stenciled in bright white letters across the side.
Lopez was out of the car in a flash. “It’s the only model of blizzard-conditions-rated vehicle that will seat all of us,” the corporal said before he trotted toward the sales office.
But how exactly had Lopez known about a car lot in Slovenia that sold heavy snow vehicles in May? Brandt turned to find Rebecca closing out a number of windows. One conspicuously had the specs for the Bombardier 12.
“Et tu?” Brandt asked.
Rebecca grinned as she closed her laptop.
And here he thought Davidson was going to be the problem.
Rebecca watched the wintery landscape change from long, low pastures to rolling hills to steep alpine inclines. Trees became more and more sparse as they ascended.
Brandt might have been skeptical about the Bombardier 12, but dang the thing was traveling across the snow at speeds over forty miles an hour. For Lopez that speed was probably embarrassing, but in the middle of a blizzard, it was downright impressive. They had skimmed past stranded car after stranded car as they made their way up the alpine highway.
She swallowed and then yawned, trying to reequilibrate her ears. They had been up down and all around. Her body didn’t know which way was up.
“Next left?” Lopez asked.
Rebecca glanced down to her laptop. Bunny leaned over as well. The woman had seen some private correspondence from Nikolay’s family. From that information they had been able to look up property records and had estimated the location of Nikolay’s retirement home. Now that they were up in the high up in the Alps though, Rebecca was beginning to have doubts.
They had passed numerous buildings. Some sparkling Swiss chalets looked like five-star resorts. Then there were broken-down “huts,” as the Slovenians called them. Basically they’d never been much more than a stick wood frame and tiled roof.
If Nikolay’s place was on the five-star side, they might have some hope of recovering the stone fragments. On the other hand, if Nikolay had shacked up in some random hut, could anything have survived until now?
“Yes,” Bunny answered Lopez. “This is as far as the A1 road goes north by northeast.” With more conviction the younger woman stated, “We need to take a left here, but in a half a mile or so, we’ve got to go off-road.”
Lopez patted the handlebars of the Bombardier. “Which is exactly why we needed this baby.”
Rebecca noticed Brandt roll his eyes. Despite Brandt’s skepticism, the Bombardier chugged its way down the side street, gliding over the freshly fallen snow. If she ignored all the guns and danger and bioweapons, she could almost imagine this was the alpine vacation she’d dreamed of.
Heading deep into the mountains to a remote cabin. The snow falling. They just needed some Christmas decorations to make the scene complete.
Unfortunately, there was no ignoring Harvish, who insisted on burping long and loud inside any enclosed vehicle. Talli’s sudden new interest in cleaning his sniper rifle. It was almost as if he wanted to show Davidson that he was the sniper, damn it.
Bunny had been right though about the distance. The only problem? The short side street branched into several one-lane roads. None of which were headed toward the cabin.
Which wasn’t all that uncommon this high up in the Alps. Many of these homes had been built off of hunters’ trails or shepherds’ grazing grounds long before paved roads were all the rage.
“Straight ahead then?” Lopez asked.
“Yes,” Bunny said, nodding with surety.
If only Rebecca had that much faith in their house-hunting research.
“All right then,” Lopez said. “Let’s see what this baby can do.”
Brandt found Rebecca’s eyes and cocked an eyebrow as the jumbo snowmobile lumbered over a snow-covered log and onto the vast snowfield leading nearly straight up.
Yeah, maybe helping Lopez find the Bombardier wasn’t her best idea.
Whiteout. That’s what they called the condition when you couldn’t see anything but the blur of white in front of you. Well, they’d passed that about ten minutes ago. The only reason Brandt knew they were going in the right direction at all was the fact that he was still thrown back in his seat as the transport’s engines growled their way up the mountain. Occasionally they would hear the sound of something being crunched under the snowmobile’s huge glides.
Lopez would just say, “My bad,” and carry on.
“How much farther?” Brandt asked.
“According to this?” Rebecca replied. “We should be right on top of it.”
“That is if Lopez hasn’t run it over yet,” Harvish joked.
Good point.
“Let’s lay off the throttle a bit?” Brandt suggested.
Lopez frowned. It really wasn’t about the destination to the corporal. It was about the journey, or more importantly how quickly the journey could be accomplished.
The Bombardier slowed, lurching a bit as the slope steepened. Then it became apparent they weren’t making any forward movement. As a matter of fact, they were slipping back.
“Fine,” Brandt conceded.
The corporal gunned the engine and they popped over the ledge, landing squarely on an outcropping, right in front of a small cabin. Its sudden appearance seemed like a snow mirage. The Bombardier’s large headlights illuminated the structure, making it twinkle. Encrusted with ice, the A-framed building looked like it could belong to St. Nick himself.
Skidding them to a less than smooth stop, Lopez smirked. “Honey, we’re home.”
Rebecca tucked up the zipper of her light jacket. They weren’t exactly dressed for winter conditions. The cold of the northern storm already bit through the Bombardier’s frosted windows. Add in the wind chill outside the vehicle? She tugged harder on the stubborn zipper.
“Ready?” Brandt asked the men as they prepped to leave the vehicle and check the small chalet. The men nodded in unison.
The doors popped open, letting a blast of frigid air into the Bombardier. Brandt went to shut the door when Davidson climbed out beside him. The two stood for a moment. The question clear. Would Davidson function as a member of the team or not?
“Stay here,” Brandt stated matter-of-factly. Davidson stiffened until Brandt handed him a sidearm. “Protect them.”
The younger man looked to the gun and then to Brandt, whose expression was clear. Don’t push it. Davidson didn’t. Instead he accepted the gun with a curt nod and climbed back into the vehicle as the other doors slammed shut.
Though Davidson didn’t seem exactly pleased at getting assigned babysitting duty, Rebecca imagined it was better than being stuck in the car without a gun.
Bunny reached a hand out and squeezed his wrist. “I’m so glad you’re staying with us.”
Did the younger woman’s fingers linger just a bit longer, or was that just Rebecca projecting her own yearnings onto every other person around her? Either way, Rebecca’s eyes sought the front window as she watched the men fan out in front of the Bombardier.
The snowfall here was light as the flakes drifted down almost lazily. This ledge was protected by two large cliffs soaring high until they curved toward one another almost touching at their peak. It was like the pointed roofed chalet had been built within its own stone walls. Those stone walls protected the chalet from the blizzard-fueled winds.
Truly Nikolay’s home should have been featured on a postcard or a Slovenian tourist site. Painted white with bright red trim, it could have been an elf’s workshop. Which looked great from outside, but what about what it contained? Unfortunately, Rebecca had far too many encounters with architectural wonders only to have them turn into nightmares.
Certainly out there, Brandt wasn’t taking any chances. He posted Talli to guard the door as Harvish, Lopez, and then Brandt disappeared into the chalet. It didn’t take long though for Brandt to exit the home and trot to the vehicle.
“Let’s get everyone inside,” he said, opening the door.<
br />
“Is it clear?” Rebecca asked, surprised that he didn’t announce that. He always announced that. It was one of the few things that gave her comfort through all of the terror.
“Sort of,” he answered and urged them toward the chalet.
Equally intrigued and worried, Rebecca followed close behind Davidson and Bunny. Brandt brought up the rear, his hand on her shoulder. Even though she should have been used to this protocol, she still had to remind herself the contact meant nothing. Especially as it fell away as soon as they entered the chalet. Brandt had just wanted to make sure he didn’t lose her in the storm.
If the outside of the structure had been cute, the interior was, well...absolutely charming. The crisp white walls contrasted nicely with the blond wood floors. Little red accents gave the place life. One window had a miniature tea set. Another had a set of Russian nesting dolls, lined up along the ledge.
And the mantel? It was like a tribute to the Motherland. Red-framed pictures shone with photos of Red Square, the Kremlin, and of course St. Basil’s. If Rebecca had any doubt that this home was Nikolay’s it evaporated.
Stepping farther into the tiny chalet, Brandt closed the door behind her. Rebecca ran her fingers along a red linen tablecloth that covered the petite kitchen table. The furniture was surprisingly delicate, almost as if it were truly meant for elves. The entire first floor was open, so as they passed through the kitchen they went directly into the living area. All the furniture was arranged around a huge, and Rebecca meant huge fireplace.
No surprise there. This was the classic layout for any home accustomed to cold weather. In the high northern environment, the home truly was where the hearth was. Here though the hearth looked to be carved within the rocky cliff. An impressive feat of engineering, but then again Nikolay was a world-renowned architect.
To the right of the massive fireplace, a set of wooden stairs led up to what looked like a loft, the chalet’s sleeping area. Harvish stood on the third step, casually leaned back against the wall. So far nothing seemed out of place. As a matter of fact, the chalet looked as if it had just wrapped up a Winter Wonderland issue of Slovenia Today.
“What is the ‘sort of’ part?” Rebecca asked, now worried that the tranquil scene would be marred by an explosion or something.
Lopez urged her around the plush red armchair. There she found a body. It turned out the chair’s color wasn’t all from the manufacturer.
“Oh God,” Bunny exhaled, her hand flying over her mouth as she backed out of sight of the body.
Yeah, this was the last time Rebecca was asking for clarification.
Brandt looked to the corpse. Actually, it was more of a skeleton than a body. Was it the fact that the death had occurred so long ago that the place didn’t reek of it?
If anything, the chalet had a sweet, almost freshly roasted almond scent.
Not that Brandt was complaining, however it did seem to mean someone had cared for the body after death. Which left some significant questions unanswered.
“So is this Nikolay?” Lopez asked the most obvious one of those questions.
Brandt glanced to Bunny, who didn’t look so good as she pressed herself up against Davidson’s chest. The private’s arm awkwardly over her shoulder.
“Bunny,” Brandt tried to coax information out of her. “You’ve done the most research on him. Is this Nikolay?”
“Like that?” Bunny said as she sank deeper into Davidson’s arms. “I can’t tell.”
Brandt looked to Rebecca, who had already opened her laptop and typed away, but she came up short as well.
“Even with my sat phone patch I can’t cut through this weather,” Rebecca said as if someone had just pinched off her oxygen line rather than cutting her off from the Internet.
Lopez knelt by the body. “I think we can eliminate natural causes,” he said as he used the tip of his gun to move aside the man’s jacket. A broken piece of metal jutted out from the ribcage.
This just got better and better. Not only did Brandt have to find the missing pieces to the famed Ten Commandments so he could track down and secure a weaponized plague, but now he had to solve a decades-old murder too. Great.
“I don’t get it,” Harvish said. “I’m assuming if someone killed Nikolay for the tablets, why wouldn’t they trash the place?”
“Maybe he gave them what they wanted but they killed him anyway?” Talli proposed.
If that was the case then this trip was a bust.
Brandt refused to believe that though. It couldn’t be a bust. Because if it was a bust, then they didn’t have a single goddamn lead to find the Rinderpest, and that just wasn’t acceptable.
“Lopez, examine the body. Try to determine if that really is Nikolay and identify the weapon used.” Brandt turned to Harvish. “You take first watch outside. We’ll rotate every hour.”
“He’s going to need more than what he’s got on to survive out there for an hour,” Talli added.
Brandt nodded to the thick curtains. “Let’s make this structure light-tight, then start a fire. We can all contribute layers of clothing to the outside man.” His men jumped at his orders. “Once we’re organized, we’ll turn the place over.”
“Wait,” Rebecca said as she started taking pictures with her cell phone. “Let me document everything first.”
“You’d better hurry,” Brandt added. “I want every square inch of this place searched within the hour.”
Rebecca replaced the tiny red teacup as Davidson finished running his fingers over the wooden window ledge. So far they had found nothing to indicate that the tablets were still at the chalet or ever had been there.
She didn’t know why it was so important to her to replace everything exactly as they had found it, but it just felt wrong to desecrate Nikolay’s home. At least not if they could avoid it. After all the destruction Rebecca had contributed to, she’d like to leave one place intact.
Davidson moved on to the small cherrywood rolltop desk. Everything contained within it was so neat and precise. The pens and pencils organized according to size in the small tin can container. Papers stacked neatly. Envelopes face down so you could pick them up by the flap. The desk of a consummate architect. Even the stapler had clean, sleek lines.
As the room heated up from the roaring fireplace, Rebecca shed her jacket and tied it around her waist. A loud crash came from the kitchen, followed by a string of curses. Brandt.
“Find something?”
“Do you think I’d be swearing if I did?” the sergeant asked as he closed the pantry door. “Anything up there?” Brandt called to the upstairs loft.
Talli poked his head over the railing. “Extra linens and clothes, but that’s about it.”
“I don’t know if this counts,” Davidson added as he replaced the envelopes to their proper corner, “but there’s a locked drawer.”
Rebecca stepped out of the way as Brandt and Bunny joined them.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” the sergeant asked.
Davidson’s good lip turned down. “A set of lock picks.”
“Here’s mine,” Lopez offered as he joined them. “And as far as I can tell by height and approximate weight, the guy could be Nikolay, or not. It could go either way.”
“And the weapon?” Brandt asked beside her as Davidson picked the lock.
“Well, that’s where it got interesting.” Lopez held the tip of blade up to the kerosene lamplight. “I’m pretty damned sure this came from a ballistic knife.”
“A flying knife?” Bunny asked.
“Close,” Brandt explained. “They are spring powered either to increase penetration on contact or detach from the base and hit a distant target.”
Rebecca took a closer look at the metal in Lopez’s hand. “There’s rust on it.”
The corporal nodded. “Because it’s carbon steel not stainless steel.” Lopez gave a knowing look to Brandt. “A favorite of Russian weapons makers. Usually a hell of a lot stronger than stainless ste
el.”
“So it took a lot of force to break off like this,” Rebecca asked.
“Hella yes,” Lopez stated. “Someone was mighty pissed off to do that.”
Rebecca’s eyes swept the tidy chalet. There were no signs of anger or even haste. If she didn’t know better, she would have said Nikolay had come home, settled into his easy chair, and died in his sleep.
But there the rusted knife tip stood between her and her theory. And a Russian military knife no less. Was it completely paranoid of her that Osip had been in the Russian army and had a liking to using a knife?
“Popped it,” Davidson announced as the drawer’s lock sprang open. He carefully drew the drawer out. “Just looks like some letters in here.”
Bunny took the proffered pages from Davidson, scanning them quickly. “They look like a bunch of letters from home.” Bunny translated small passages. “Uncle, will you be home for Easter? We miss you.” She moved on to another page. “Visiting the cathedral is not the same without you...We are waiting to make your favorite okroshka.” The younger woman looked up to everyone’s puzzled looks. “It’s a soap made from sour milk.”
Ah, yes, the Russians.
The younger woman flipped through the old letters. “They all sound the same. Signed by Nikolay’s nephew.”
“Except this one,” Davidson stated, pulling out a partially finished letter. “I think this is Nikolay’s last response. I don’t think he got a chance to finish it.”
Rebecca read over Bunny’s shoulder, trying to keep up with the younger woman, however her Russian was fluent. “He’s just reassuring his nephew he will visit soon.”
Bunny handed the lot over to Brandt. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see any connection to these and...” Bunny nodded toward the body. “That.”
It took everything Brandt had not to tear the letters and throw their tattered remains into the fire. They couldn’t have flown through a pretornado to find nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Betrayed 02 - Havoc Page 22
