by Linda Mackay
We steered the snow machines closer to the road edge, hoping mama would take the hint and use the path we’d cut on the road to move on. It was a long shot since she and her calf were happily curled up with only one eye showing. Snowmobilers have been seriously injured or killed running into snow-covered bison. Once snow sticks to the bison’s fur they become practically invisible in the white landscape. Locals try not to ride snow machines after dark since even with a headlight you can drive blind into an entire herd.
Ed returned from his scouting expedition. “I’ll direct, follow us.” We slowly moved through the forest. Ed tapped my right shoulder and made two revving motions with his fist. He wanted me to pick up speed as I turned right. Under me I could feel the sled moving onto terrain that had a more solid feel; Ed had guided us to a game trail. The wind came to a momentary halt and I could see the stable ahead. Ed motioned for me to return to the road.
We pulled up next to the stable just as the wind picked up again. The horses were happy to see us and get cubes of hay and some grain. We broke up the thin layer of ice on the water trough, checked the gate latches were secure, and with a quick scratch behind each horse’s ears, we prepared to leave.
Mac and Todd returned from their walk around the stables checking for tracks. It seemed an unnecessary precaution since I can’t imagine anyone else was out in this storm. But, I appreciated Mac’s diligence.
We remounted our machines and rode out using the detour. When we arrived at the road the bison and her calf were gone.
“Damn bison,” Ed said over my shoulder as we stopped to look for her. “Wonder where she got off to?”
Todd yelled but I couldn’t hear him. Ed leaned in to my right ear and spoke so I could hear him through my helmet. “Todd sees tracks heading into those trees. Let’s move out and hope she stays there.”
Todd took the lead. The rest of the trip back to our cabins went quickly as the wind receded giving us clear visibility, and I hoped signally the storm was abating. As we made the last turn, Todd sped up, skidded the machine and dumped Mac off. Ed and I pulled in behind Todd’s machine.
“I told you to hold on.” Todd was laughing at Mac.
“I thought you were enjoying it too much.”
“You kept letting go the whole trip.” Todd removed his helmet. “I told you to hold on so you could feel when I was leaning to steer, and lean with me. You’re lucky you didn’t dump us or get us stuck.”
“Riding isn’t about relaxing behind the driver like you’re a Prince on tour,” I said.
“And trust me, my friend,” Todd said. “When you did hold on, you were squeezing my stomach so tight not even a masochist would’ve enjoyed it.”
Mac stood and brushed off his coat and snow pants. In a motion so fast, no one saw it coming; Mac picked up Todd and dumped him in the snow. He dropped to the ground next to Todd and shoved handfuls of snow inside his coat. Ed tapped my shoulder; I throttled up our machine and took off as he lightly wrapped his arm around my stomach.
We parked the sled next to Ed’s housing unit to let it cool down before re-covering it. Todd and Mac zoomed by on their way to return the borrowed sled.
“I had a feeling if we didn’t get out of there, we were next,” Ed said.
“I think you’re right.”
I looked at the sky nearing dusk, and could see the storm breaking up around us. “When do you think they’ll start plowing?”
“A couple hours ago, the park radio said another squall is coming through tonight. Since the roads are already closed due to the storm, the word is no plowing till daylight tomorrow.”
“Can’t say I’m disappointed,” I shrugged. “Constantly feeling like someone is watching you is extremely tiring.”
“I can’t comprehend how criminals on the run do it. My blood pressure would explode,” Ed said.
“I don’t know how Mac and Liz do it either.” I brushed a layer of wet snow off my coat.
“It’s why they’re suspicious all the time,” Ed laughed.
“How old do you think Liz is?” I asked.
Ed looked at me like I was short a few apples in a bushel. “What?”
“How old do you think Liz is?”
“I understood the question, just not the reason behind it,” Ed said.
“Humor me, and take a guess.”
“This is dangerous ground for a man, but I’d say she’s between 45 and 55.”
“That’s a big spread,” I said.
“It’s all you’ll get from me.”
“Amanda said Frank and Liz were…well, you know.”
“Doing the nasty,” Ed laughed. “So are you worried she’s too young for him?”
“Honestly, when I first met her, I guessed she was easily 60.”
Ed started to say something until Mac and Todd appeared running through the snow, and stopped in front of us.
“Take that old man.” Todd bent over to catch his breath.”
Mac stopped next to Todd and without even a hint of exertion in his breathing said, “I let you win. Don’t want to hurt your fragile ego.”
Todd tried to speak, but was too out of breath.
“Wanna go best of two?” Mac asked.
“No.” Todd managed to get out.
“For Todd’s delicate constitution, we’ll walk slowly back to our nice, warm cabin,” Mac said.
As we made the short walk, I had to accept I was once again foiled in my desire to finish a conversation about Liz’s age. I was also questioning why it mattered to me--because for some reason it did.
“The Bernie Burgers are ready.” Todd had a straw basket on his head and was singing Under The Sea. “Everyone help yourself, get a drink, and we’ll start the movie.”
We gathered around the table and applauded. Each burger was topped with coarse sea salt, a sprig of romaine stuck upright to look like a tree, and tiny pieces of tomatoes sprinkled under the tree like little flowers.
Todd bowed and continued his serenade while we filled our plates. I piled onions, green peppers and a ring of pineapple on my burger, squeezed mustard over the top and smashed the bun to keep it all in place. He’d cut up carrots and celery for nibbling, had four different kinds of chips, and heated can baked beans to which he’d added a healthy portion of brown sugar. Simple and easy to clean up: it was my favorite kind of dinner.
Liz was standing over Amanda making her take an antibiotic. Twice daily Amanda complained antibiotics aren’t preventative, and twice daily Liz argued it might kill any developing pneumonia so shut-up and take it.
Mac and Todd were laughing about their shared snow machine ride, while Ed put the DVD in the Blue-ray player.
Holding the plate on my lap, I thought about the billions of people on the planet who were eating a meal; heading to work; starving; playing with their grandkids; or fighting a disease. Each going through the motions of whatever life presented them. The six of us were about to be the catalyst to how the motion of those lives changed.
And with that daunting responsibility, we were settling in to watch Richard and Larry deal with their dead boss, Bernie. The powers of my ancestral spirits help us all.
Chapter 24
Look what I found.” Liz called us over to read what was on the computer screen.
If you are reading this, something catastrophic has happened to my crew and myself. I, Thomas “Bull” Johnson, am writing this statement and giving the thumb drive containing it and other evidence to Ed Owens, Grand Teton National Park ranger who is on loan to Yellowstone Lake District. He will not be able to open these files, as they are heavily encrypted. Therefore, he cannot be accused of tampering with them. (My apologies to Ranger Owens for insulting his lack of computer knowledge.)
My crew and I are employees of the USGS. We were given a grant by the federal government to research the hydrothermal explosion that occurred at Mary Bay, Yellowstone National Park, on July 4 of this year, killing the President of The United States and over a hundred others. From the day w
e arrived on site President Holmes’, personal aide, Tom Bass has monitored our every move. We were not allowed on site unless he was present. Now I know why.
“Holy we’re-next-on-the-hit-list,” Todd paced wall to wall in the small confines of the cabin.
“For once, I’m happy to be only mildly competent on a computer,” Ed said. “I’m also positive Bull downplayed my geologic knowledge to secure me to do this job.”
Mac pulled out his phone. “Ed, how well did you know Bull prior to this job?”
“Well enough. He worked in my district two years ago.”
“Liz, read the rest out loud,” Mac instructed. “I’m getting nervous about who Tom Bass really is and need to make a call.”
The evidence we’ve collected will prove this event was not natural. The former President of The United States was assassinated. It is also my conclusion that Tom Bass and President Holmes are responsible for this assassination, whether solely or as part of a group. Mr. Bass believes he is in sole possession of our findings. However, I did not turn over the last ROV data, but instead replaced the drive with one from previous work. The thumb drive I am leaving with Ranger Owens contains a copy of the videos from our last days at Mary Bay, along with other evidence. If I fail to escape with the originals, I can only hope the copy reaches the right people. If the world fails to accept this as fact, then the world warrants the hell that choice will unleash on them.
“I guess Bull was as disgusted with politicians as we are.” Amanda squeezed in closer to re-read the words on the screen.
“At least this corroborates our evidence,” I said.
“It also creates a bigger problem for us,” Liz said. “Tom Bass is not just an aide.”
“I think it’s time to tell them about The Bakers.” Mac motioned us to take a seat.
I didn’t want to sit, and I didn’t want to hear any more secrets. I wasn’t going to get my wish.
“Mac, is talking about a 13-member group known as The Bakers; as in a baker’s dozen.” Liz pulled her chair away from the computer and into the seating area by the fire.
“At some point during your higher education, I assume you studied shadow governments,” Mac said.
“Do you mean organizations like the Illuminati or Britain’s Shadow Cabinet?” Amanda asked.
Liz shook her head. “I wish it were that simple to explain.”
“They are referring to groups like the Majestic 12.” I leaned forward in my chair and put my head in my hands.
“Holy E.T.,” Todd said. “This was the work of aliens?”
“I told you this was out of this world,” Amanda made flying motions with her hands.
Liz stood, picked up her coat, and walked to the door. “They’re all yours, Mac. I can’t do this.”
The door closed and Ed stood next. “I’m with Liz, if this discussion is deteriorating to aliens I’m out.”
“Ed, sit!” Mac commanded like he was scolding a disobedient dog. “The only one talking now is me. Got it?”
There were nods all around.
“First, this has nothing to do with aliens. Second, I believe President Teddy Roosevelt said it best when he pointed out that behind the ostensible government is another one, owing no responsibility to the people. That is who The Bakers are. Once Liz and I research Tom Bass, we’re betting he’s a member.”
The room remained quiet as ordered.
Mac laughed, “Okay, questions? Jorie first.”
“What kinds of people are in this group?” I started out simple, or so I thought.
“The suspected members are a bi-partisan mix that don’t give a shit about political party lines. Over the years they have successfully put people in office from both major parties. Their agenda is focused on maintaining a powerful and sustainable country. They manipulate, mold, and create public opinion to fit their goals. The positions they cram down the publics’ throats actually have little to do with societal good, and everything to do with power and money.”
“Can you expand on Jorie’s question and name individuals?” Ed asked.
“For your safety, I’d rather not, but I will tell you some are from the military and espionage fields, others are scientists, owners of tech, financial, petroleum and communication giants, also a supreme court justice, and even a reformed criminal hacker.”
“Those kind of connections can render the real government useless,” I said.
“It often does.”
“Mac, those types of people are easily identifiable, which means Tom Bass is either in espionage or the hacker,” Ed said.
“In the past, a couple of high-ranking politicians were suspected of being members. It’s possible he’s temporarily taken over President Holmes seat as her pro tem,” Mac said.
“President Holmes was a Baker?” Amanda asked.
“The way this is shaking out, Liz and I believe so.”
“I don’t buy a lowly aide being allowed in this group, even temporarily,” I said.
“Give the woman a cigar,” Mac smiled. “That makes it critical to find out who Tom Bass really is.
“How long has Bass been visible on the radar?” Ed asked.
“Five to seven years,” Mac said. “But his resume, fabricated or true, is impressive.”
“He has to be a military spy.” Todd winked, “Special Forces of some kind.”
“More likely he’s CIA,” Amanda snorted.
Nothing made sense to me. “Is that long enough to become credible?”
“If he has good enough background cover, it’s plenty of time to slip him in as a plant, as her lowly aide,” Mac said.
The sun broke through the crack in the curtains, causing all of us to react. Liz stuck her face in the open space and grinned at us. “Spooked ya.” She yelled through the windowpane.
“That woman pisses me off.” Ed smacked an old newspaper on his thigh.
“Anyone take bets on how old she is?” This seemed as good a time as any to break the tension with a bet to get me the information I was craving.
Amanda drew first blood. “That’s easy. Ten bucks. She is 51 and three months.”
“Loser,” Todd said. “53 and 6 months.”
“This isn’t going to end well for anyone who’s over, so I say 46 and 2 months,” Ed said.
“60 and 1 month,” I said.
“Holy smack in the face,” Todd said. “You better hope you win or you’re going to need medical care for that guess.”
“Don’t I get a guess?” Mac said.
“No. You know too much about her,” I said.
“You’d be surprised how little I know about any covert agents.”
He wasn’t fooling me. “You know enough.”
“How about instead of picking an age, I win if she refuses to tell you her age,” Mac said.
“Deal.” Tata shook hands all around.
Ah, cinnamon elephant knees, where was the “F” word when I needed it. I was never going to learn how old she was. Unless? Blood is thicker than water. And Frank was as close to blood as anyone in my family. If anyone knew her age it would be Frank, and I was going to bet he would happily reveal it.
“What’s a knee-banger?” Liz looked up from the file she’d hacked.
“What’s it in reference to?” I asked.
Liz stood and rolled her head, working the kinks out of her neck from staring at the computer all morning. “Bull, attached a note to this file about one of the crew taking a knee-banger hike and discovering a boulder that was a conglomerate with concrete.”
“The knee-banger stump.” Amanda rubbed her knee. “I’ve whacked it a couple times.”
“We need to check it out,” Liz said.
“Sure thing. It’s where the Turbid Lake Trail crosses the old Jones Pass Road,” Todd said.
“Good, we can drive.”
Todd, Amanda, and I laughed.
“What’s the joke?” Liz mumbled with her lips squeezed together.
“It’s on the other side of the ba
y with no road access.” Amanda said taking the chicken way out with her explanation.
“We can borrow the boat and then hike in, or we can take the horses for a long ride.” I said walking into the kitchen to be out of her direct line of fire in case Liz decided to throw something.
“Well, crap,” Liz said. “Can we be in and out in a day if we take the boat?”
“Yes, but it will be a long day.” As much as I didn’t want to get back in the boat, it would be the quickest way in. “If we find evidence that needs to be investigated it still might end up being an overnight trip.”
“I can’t believe there’s finally a road and we can’t get to it,” Liz said.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Todd said, “It’s no longer a road, but a closed, unmaintained and access-blocked road.”
“Even if we were on that side of the lake, we’d still be hoofing it,” I added.
Liz walked into the bedroom, “I hate this place.”
“I couldn’t agree less,” I said.
Liz gave me an impolite hand gesture and closed the bedroom door.
The wilderness isn’t for everyone, and most visitors never get more than a hundred yards from their vehicle. That leaves me 34,000 square miles in the Yellowstone eco-system to explore with minimal human interaction. If we returned to the backcountry, I hoped that was enough space to keep us from interacting with Bass or his henchmen.
“Roads are almost completely plowed. Park will reopen in about an hour,” Ed said.
Mac removed the hat over his eyes and sat up from his slouched position on the couch. “Someone decide if we’re boating or riding, we need to move out.”
“We ride,” Todd said.
“No other option,” Amanda added.
Ed nodded agreement.
“Let’s be out of here in under an hour,” Mac said.
“Why the hell are we riding?” Liz had one hand on each side of the bedroom doorframe and was leaning forward with the flexibility of Gumby.
“Not enough snowshoes for everyone, and snow’s too deep back there to simply walk in,” Todd said.
