The other man pointed at her.
“She is not blond enough and looks older than fourteen.”
Brenda seemed to be offended and confused at the same time.
Durand wasn’t certain he knew what was happening, but he decided to try and bluff his way through it.
“I am Pavel, but this is not the girl,” he said, and although he tried to hide his French accent, it was there and unmistakable.
The thick man hung his head, glanced at his partner, then gave Durand a sour look.
“You are not Pavel.”
The man was bringing a gun out from beneath his jacket when Durand shot him in the face.
Brenda screamed, lost her balance, and fell sideways off her snowmobile, as Durand took aim at the other man.
Durand and the other man fired at each other. Durand’s single shot, fired from a Glock, hit the man in the chest.
Durand was struck in the chest as well, but with a three-round burst from a Beretta 93R.
Brenda screamed again as Durand fell atop the edge of the lake. When he didn’t move, she just knew he was dead.
24
Signs Of Life
He was dead.
Pavel was dead.
Bogdan and Ruslan stood nearby with sympathetic expressions showing, as Valentina wept over her brother’s frozen remains.
When she had composed herself, Valentina had them split up and look for tracks in the snow. She found the tracks herself, along with another disturbing scene.
There was a dead man who looked like the storm had killed him, but the woman beside him was a mess. She had been bitten by an animal many times, but also shot in the head.
Ruslan, the mortician’s assistant, checked them for anything of value, or a clue to their identities. The woman had nothing on her, but the man had been named Nikolai and carried a pilot’s license.
Ruslan claimed Nikolai’s shotgun for his own, although it was empty of shells.
Not far from the bodies was a shelter, cleverly hidden, with tracks leading away from it.
Valentina climbed aboard her snowmobile with a determined look.
She led the way as she followed the path through the snow left behind by Tanner, Sara, and Polina.
When Tanner spotted a patch of space under a huge pine tree that was only sparsely covered with snow, he pulled the sled over to take a break.
They had been going for hours and his dislocated arm was killing him, but he was certain they’d be spotted soon or reach a town.
Sara suggested that Tanner and Polina eat something since they were expending so much energy. Tanner declined food, but started a small fire so they could have some tea. He missed coffee, but the MRE only had tea, and he was thankful for that.
Polina was in a good mood, but she was tired of eating food from the MRE’s. She had been telling Tanner and Sara about her family, including her grandmother.
Thinking it was a good idea that she should eat something, Tanner offered her some of the beef jerky he found in the tent the Turks had.
Polina said she loved beef jerky. It had been a favorite snack food of her chauffeur, Stas, and he had often shared some with her.
After starting the tea, Tanner had taken out a cell phone and tried to get a signal. There was none. He walked up a hill to try again and saw something in the distance that perplexed him.
The snow over there was flying about as if driven by a whirlwind and moving in a straight line. When the whirlwind curved some and he saw the black wedge at its front, Tanner realized what it was.
“A train?” Sara said. “That’s a good sign.”
“It’s better than good. That train was a plow clearing the tracks of snow. Once we’re rested, I’ll cut across these fields and follow those tracks. We’ll either get picked up at a road crossing or find a train station.”
Sara sighed.
“Oh, to soak in a nice hot sudsy bath, and to sleep in a bed again. That will be heaven.”
“It might be a hospital bed with that knee of yours.”
“I don’t think it needs surgery, at least I hope not.”
“Tanner.”
“Yes, Polina?”
“You never told us what happened to the girl, Genevieve.”
“She lived happily ever after.”
Sara slapped him on his good arm.
“Don’t be like that. Tell us the story. You left us in suspense.”
“You really want to hear more about that?”
“Yes!” Sara and Polina shouted.
Tanner drained the last of his tea. Then, he picked up the story where he’d left off.
25
Tanner At Twelve
Cody and his grandfather had returned from another day of hunting.
Genevieve came over to talk with him, as Cody was watching the men refuel the plane for the next day.
Genevieve had sat out that day’s hunt, and Cody expected her to call him more names again, but Genevieve had come to talk for a different reason.
“I’m sorry I called you a monster, Cody. It just scared me to see all that blood… and the guts, yuck.”
Cody smiled. He was glad that Genevieve wasn’t mad at him, and he spotted an opportunity to spend more time with her.
“My granddad is having dinner with your mom in the dining room tonight. Why don’t I come by your room?”
Genevieve smiled as she considered Cody.
“You want to hang out with me, just the two of us?”
“Uh-huh.”
Genevieve laughed.
“Are you sure you’re only twelve?”
“That’s what they tell me, and anyway, you don’t want to eat alone, do you?”
“You win, Cody. Come by the room at six and I’ll order up a pizza or something.”
Cody looked her up and down.
“I can’t wait.”
Genevieve smiled.
“I’d better stop thinking of you as a little boy.”
Cody’s grandfather left for his dinner date with Genevieve’s mother and Cody raced down two flights of stairs to reach Genevieve’s room. The building sat among rolling hills and had been built against a sloping landscape.
Although Genevieve’s room was on the second floor, the windows gave a view of snow-covered slopes that some of the guests liked to ski down on occasion. Because of the incline, Genevieve’s windows faced a hill.
As he left the stairwell, Cody heard a scream, or rather, a partial scream, because it sounded as if it had been cut off. The hallway outside Genevieve’s room was empty, but the entrance to her room was opened a crack, allowing a look inside.
Cody called her name as he pushed the door inward.
“Genevieve?”
He saw her through an open window, and she was not alone. A man had her. She was in the man’s arms and as limp as a rag doll. The man slipped and fell on his rear in the sloping snow, but held on to Genevieve. After he stood, he was moving well again. The man headed toward a pickup truck as he carried Genevieve.
Cody delayed for a moment, as he thought of going for his grandfather, or his rifle, but then he climbed out the window, dropped to the ground, and took off into the night.
The pickup was silver and looked like the ones they had at the ranch where he lived. His father bought Chevys, and so Cody reasoned that the truck was a Chevy, but this one had those special tires that were made to handle heavy snow.
The pickup fishtailed a bit as the man drove off with Genevieve, but Cody stayed behind it and ran as fast as he could.
When the truck reached the parking area, it was illuminated by the lights coming from the dining room windows. Cody hoped that his grandfather, Genevieve’s mom, or someone would wonder why a truck would have been up on that hill.
Once the vehicle was on asphalt, Cody fell behind quickly, and he stopped running as he reached the end of the driveway.
Many boys would have been crying in frustration or fear, but Cody Parker was thinking. He had stopped running becaus
e it was futile to chase after the truck on foot, and he knew he needed a better plan.
It came to him as he imagined the terrain. He had seen the area surrounding the ranch when he and his grandfather arrived, and just that morning too, when they had gone into town for breakfast.
The truck with Genevieve in it would have to navigate down a series of long winding curves. Those curves not only wound, but they were icy as well. The man would have to slow, would have to take his time or risk having an accident, and when he reached the bottom, he’d be directly below.
Cody walked over to the edge of the driveway where the asphalt ended and looked down a snow-covered slope of land that went on for over a mile. There was a moon above that wasn’t full, but was bright enough to give light as it reflected off the snow.
Cody made his mind up and started down the hill. Within a hundred yards he was sliding along on his backside and picking up speed.
When he feared he was going too fast, he tried to slow himself. That effort resulted in turning him around, and then he was sliding backwards.
He hit a small tree, just a glancing blow on a shoulder, and it spun him around a turn and a half. He was facing the right way again, but it gave him no pleasure, because up ahead was blackness.
Cody sailed off into the night while making an “ooh” sound, as a tremor of fear passed through him, one that was accompanied by the rush of excitement.
It felt like he had been falling forever when he landed hard atop the branch of a pine tree.
Cody felt the branch give way, dip, then spring back up, and he was flung through the air again.
He landed on his back in deep snow with his knees slightly bent, then, he felt himself sliding backwards again. A grab at a bush halted his slide and he stood.
He was good, other than a few sore spots and a deep scratch on the back of his neck. When he gazed upward, he was amazed at how far he had come down.
The roadway was a hundred yards away. Cody half ran, half slid the rest of the way down.
When he stepped into the road, he saw the pickup on his left. It was exiting the road that led to the lodge and headed south.
Cody ran straight ahead, where the land was cleared and mostly flat. The road going south curved, and if he could just run fast enough, he might meet the truck on the other side of the clearing.
When he was halfway across the field, Cody knew he’d been far too optimistic, as the truck went by out on the road. Still, it was the only vehicle in sight. Cody kept running, with his knees rising and falling like twin pistons, and his fists clenched.
When the truck made a left, he was over a mile behind, but could still see its lights. The truck traveled another few seconds, made a right, then, a quick left, and disappeared, or perhaps cut its lights off.
Cody kept running on an angle for the truck. When he saw a vehicle approaching, he thought it was the truck coming back, but no, it was a car. When the car came to the intersection Cody was approaching, he shouted at it.
The driver, who had the silhouette of an old man, didn’t hear him, and drove off in the other direction.
Cody shivered from the cold. He was wet from his slide down the hill, but he couldn’t go back until he found that truck, and Genevieve.
There were headlights coming from behind Cody, from back near the lodge. As he stood still and gulped in air, he thought about running towards them. However, there was no guarantee that the driver wouldn’t veer off down another road before he could reach them and ask for help.
Cody ran again and headed toward the last spot he’d seen the truck. As he rounded a curve, he spotted it. The truck was parked in front of an old shack that was at the foot of a hill.
It reminded Cody of a supply shed they had on his family’s ranch, but this building the man had taken Genevieve to was much older. The slanted roof of the structure looked as if it would let in water, while the windows were coated with dust.
Cody approached the truck in a crouch.
The engine was off. When he tried the handle on the passenger side, it was locked. A glance into a side window showed him the vehicle was empty.
A noise came from inside, followed by the sound of a man shouting. The door on the shack was weathered and the doorknob was missing. Cody eased it open, heard the man shout again, and could tell that he was at the rear.
Then, the screaming started. It was Genevieve. She was screaming in hysteria, pleading with the man to let her go, but he answered her by laughing.
“Scream all you want, you little bitch. No one will hear you. Now, let’s see what you got under that blouse.”
Cody was surprised by the man’s voice. He sounded young. He had only seen the man once and from the rear, but the twelve-year-old had always thought that guys who abducted girls were old men, like in their forties.
Cody peeked around the corner and saw the man rip open Genevieve’s blouse to expose the white lace bra beneath it. She was standing on her toes with her arms over her head and her wrists tied together by rope.
The man spoke to Genevieve. He described what he would do to her, and when Genevieve wept and moaned in terror, Cody saw the side of the man’s face. He was grinning. The bastard was enjoying Genevieve’s fear.
Cody claimed a broken 2x4 that was laying on the floor. It was dusty, and there was a nail sticking out of it, a long nail.
Cody entered the room as the man gripped Genevieve’s bra, preparing to rip it open.
Genevieve saw Cody and her wide eyes wouldn’t leave him.
When the man looked at her, he followed her gaze, moved to duck, but was too late to prevent getting hit. He had avoided the nail, but not the board. It caught him on the side of the head. The man stumbled backwards, hit a table, and crashed to the floor, where he lay still.
Cody was advancing on him, but Genevieve begged to be freed from the ropes that held her wrists.
Cody followed the path of the rope, saw how it went over a wooden beam and down to a crossbar in a wall, where the plaster had rotted away.
It was a simple slipknot. Cody pulled it, and Genevieve’s arms dropped.
She cried and mumbled something that Cody couldn’t make out as he freed her wrists, while trying not to stare at her breasts.
“Go Genevieve, run outside and hide somewhere.”
“What? Come with me.”
“I can’t,” Cody said, as he raised the 2x4 again.
Genevieve looked at the wood, then Cody, then at the man who tried to rape her.
She headed out of the room and said she’d get help.
Cody watched her go. When he turned back around, the man punched him in the face and he hit the floor.
The man looked down at him for a moment as Cody stared up. There was surprise on the man’s face.
He had expected Cody to be out cold. What he didn’t know is that Cody was no stranger to fighting. Although he was only twelve, he had learned to box well from a man who worked on his family’s ranch.
Cody and the ranch hand sparred often, as the man was short, lean, and boxed in the Flyweight Division, at 112 lbs.
Cody could take a punch all right, and he also knew how to give them.
He bounced up from the floor as the man grabbed the 2x4. The man swung at Cody as Cody grabbed for the 2x4 to wrest it away. The nail sticking out of the wood punctured Cody’s hand. It hurt like hell and would leave a scar, but when Cody yanked his hand away, the 2x4 came with it and clattered to the floor.
Cody ducked the next punch the man threw, then, he hit the man in the stomach with a right. That was followed by a left to the nose. The man backed away from him while grunting. He had fifty pounds and nine inches on the boy standing before him, but the kid had hurt him.
The man charged Cody. Cody hit him with a right cross that rocked the man’s head but the momentum of his charge pushed Cody to the floor. The man straddled Cody, blocked his punches with one hand, then grabbed up the 2x4 with the other.
Cody struggled to push the man off, b
ut his weight was too much.
The man raised the 2x4 high, and prepared to bring it crashing down on Cody’s skull.
Tanner ended the story there and Sara and Polina stared at him with impatience.
“Well, go on,” Sara said. “Tell us what happened next.”
Tanner shrugged.
“The man bashed my head in and killed me, the end.”
Sara punched him playfully in the stomach, but Polina laughed.
“I know what happened,” Polina said, as she stood and pantomimed fighting. “Boy Tanner smash man in the nose and beat him up good, then helped the girl and found the police.”
“It was something like that,” Tanner said.
Polina looked around.
“I have to tinkle. I’ll be right back.”
While Polina was gone, Tanner and Sara cleaned the area and prepared to move out again. When they saw a small plane off in the distance, it gave them both hope that they were nearing civilization.
“We should have been able to get a cell signal by now,” Sara said.
“Something must be wrong with the system,” Tanner told her. As he spoke, he looked off to where Polina had gone.
Sara realized where he was looking and grew concerned.
“She’s been gone a while, hasn’t she?”
“Yeah.”
Sara stood with difficulty. There was less snow beneath the trees, and she used her cane to help her hobble along. Tanner assisted her as they reached the top of the small hill and they saw Polina, who was not alone.
There was a wolf there. It was the wolf, and it was growling as it approached Polina.
26
Vive La Revolution—Not!
“I just knew you were dead.”
Jacques Durand smiled at Sasha’s pretty niece, Brenda.
“I might be dead if I hadn’t worn my bulletproof vest for extra warmth.”
Durand was sipping on coffee near a fire. They were still at the lake, but had been joined by local police and a paramedic. One of the locals deep in the woods had reported hearing lots of gunfire the day before, along with a woman’s screams.
White Hell (A Tanner Novel Book 17) Page 13
