RUNAWAY TWINS and RUNAWAY TWINS IN ALASKA: BOXED SET (29 page)

"They won't go."

"Well, we'll try. God works in mysterious ways."

"What about the boy?"

"I don't think he has much of a future."

"Just don't let your people up there get carried away and hurt my girls."

"Kid gloves," said the Prophet, "…like they were hothouse orchids—which in a way they are."

After Seth continued on his way, Elder Biggars said, "Hothouse orchids?"

"Seemed apt," said the Prophet. "My little hothouse orchids."

As the rescue party traversed
the hills and valleys on its way to Glacier Lake, Justin strained to catch sight of Big Bertha and Umbriago. But they were nowhere in view, causing him disappointment and yet a measure of satisfaction. He was sad not to see them again, but pleased they might be roaming far from the Yuktapah Preserve, safe from the Park Service's disciplinary action. He was persuaded that Bertha was not a threat to human beings, that her violence against a violent man was appropriate and shouldn't be held against her.

Justin was pleased to see that the troopers weren't giving an inch when it came to Idaho Joe. He was being forced to walk, grumbling all the way, with his hands cuffed behind his back—difficult to be sure, but not impossible and fun to watch. The fat murderer deserved such treatment, and if Justin had his way he would make the journey even more punishing by loading Joe's back with equipment and supplies.

Rex and Martha were light-hearted and hiked with vigor and enthusiasm. Justin had thought they might be upset about the disabled Bell 407, but they hadn't mentioned it at all. The surprise and pleasure of finding their three interns alive and well clearly overwhelmed any negatives—including what they had learned about the activities of the criminal fishermen. Justin half expected the two bear-management rangers to burst into song as they marched.

The state troopers and the volunteers were a study in contrast. The troopers were talkative, encouraging, concerned about the welfare of Justin and the twins; but the volunteers were almost silent, keeping to themselves, acting as if the whole rescue operation were somehow an imposition on their time and talents. Strange.

The float plane came into view from the top of the last rise, and the trooper sergeant shouted, "There she floats! Gotta give our boy a gold star for patience. Must've been nerve wracking sitting on that lake. Not the most stable water in the interior."

"De Havilland Twin Otter," said Rex. "You came prepared."

The trooper sergeant nodded. "Didn't know how many were stuck in here. Brought the top of the line. Nineteen passengers—but we've modified her for five more."

When the waiting pilot caught sight of the approaching rescue team he began to maneuver toward the most efficient access point he could find. But it was obvious to Justin that no matter how close to shore the floatplane taxied, they were all going to get wet climbing aboard.

The flight to Fairbanks International
was smooth and uneventful. Justin was allowed to sit upfront in the jump seat behind Rex and the pilot, and he asked scores of questions—including "How are we going to land on the runway at Fairbanks with pontoons?"

The pilot laughed. "On the Series 400, the wheels let down through the pontoons. Not to worry."

"Thank God," said Justin. "Thought it might be kinda rough."

29
On the Tarmac

Janie stared out the floatplane's
window while they glided through the flight path toward Fairbanks International. She too shared Justin's curiosity regarding how they would be able to put down on pontoons on the cement, but she was too exhausted mentally and physically, to ask anyone how such a landing could be accomplished. She figured the professionals knew what they were doing, and if they didn't, there would be a lot of sparks, and who cared?

As always Rachel was at her side, and Janie reflected on how her faithful sister had kept her word since the first night after Rex and Martha left for Denali. Rachel had promised that she or Justin would always be in sight as long as Janie felt insecure and that Janie would never be left alone. And even in the darkest moment of their adventures, even when drugged into unconsciousness, Rachel had been by her side. Janie rested her head on her sister's shoulder. Maybe soon she would release her from her promise, but not quite yet.

"Coming in," said Rachel. "Be on the ground in a couple of minutes."

Janie mumbled an acknowledgement, but the truth was she was in no rush to deplane. The trip had been restful, and it wouldn't hurt her feelings if it could go on for another hour.

Paul and Timothy sat in the rear of the Twin Otter, across the aisle from the handcuffed Idaho Joe. They still hadn't signaled to him that they'd been sent by the Prophet. There didn't seem any point to it. Joe was in restraints and would be whisked off the plane and taken to the Fairbank's State Troopers' Detachment, and there was little they could do about it. And there was little that Joe could do to help them, even if by some miracle they managed to free him. There was no question their hope for a successful mission lay with the Prophet's men waiting in a warehouse with the mining equipment crates. Joe would have to fend for himself.

The plane rolled to a stop and Joe was shoved forward and out, complaining all the way about his rights and about how there was no evidence linking him to anything. He would sue the State of Alaska, the troopers, and the National Park Service, and he would collect big.

When Joe was gone Rex said to the interns, "Off to the hospital, kids…checkups—couple of days."

All three objected and Rachel said, "We don't need the hospital. Don't you think we've proven how healthy we are? We'd be dead if we weren't healthy."

"Sorry, kids," said Martha, "but Fairbanks Memorial is set up and waiting. This isn't a matter for argument. The park service insists…and Rex and I insist. I'm sure the doctors have all kinds of nice shots lined up for you."

The teenagers made faces and Rachel said, "I'd rather be back in the pond with the mosquitos.

The Yukon men strode purposefully
across the tarmac. Paul's expression was hopeful. "Fairbanks Memorial Hospital, eh? Possibilities—all sorts of possibilities. We're not defeated yet." He took a small notebook from his pocket. First stop, find the warehouse where the men are waiting with the mining crates.

It didn't take long, and as they waited at the sliding door for someone to answer their knock, they noticed the Hawker Siddeley HS 748 cargo plane parked not far away.

"There it is," said Timothy. "The Prophet said it would be here. The pilots?"

"Probably at their hotel. They're being paid to wait, but I doubt they're waiting in the plane."

The giant door screeched open and a pair of wary eyes peeked around the edge. "Whatayawant?"

Paul stepped closer. "Are you in charge of the mining equipment?"

The eyes narrowed further. "Who wants to know?"

"A holy man in Deer Lodge."

The door opened several feet wider, and an unshaven weasel-like man appraised his visitors. "Holy?...maybe yes, maybe no, but his money is holy enough for us." He motioned for them to enter the warehouse.

There was a card table set up in the center of the room and a second man looked up from his game of solitaire. He was smaller than his associate, and improbably he also resembled a weasel—but with a touch of rat. "What's this then, Charlie?"

"Two guys who claim to know the holy man."

The card player laughed. "I think we'd all be more holy if we had nine or ten young wives."

Paul frowned and looked around. Six large crates stamped "mining equipment" were lined up across the back of the room. He couldn't see clearly, but he thought that two of them were loosely constructed near their bases, as if to allow air to flow freely.

"My name's Bradshaw," the card player said, "Bo Bradshaw. This here's Charlie, my brother."

"I'm Paul, this is Timothy."

"You're kidding."

Paul winced.

"What're you doing here?" Bo asked. "Did you bring more money from your holy man?"

Timothy spoke for the first time. "You boys from Missoula?"

"Right," said Charlie. "And we're running out of patience…and money. Where's our cargo?"

"Long story," said Paul. "As for the money, we've been told your payment is to be doubled—usual source, whatever that means."

The brothers looked at each other with greedy eyes. "Then, by all means, tell us the long story," said Bo.

Rachel and Janie were not
disappointed at being asked to share a hospital room at Fairbanks Memorial. They had always slept together, most years in the same bed. They were therefore content to find they'd been assigned a double room. Twin beds for twins—seemed appropriate. But they told Justin how irked they were that he was given an oversized private room with a couch and armchair next to his oversized hospital bed.

"The staff must think you're a politician," Rachel said.

"Have to be," he said grinning, "to deal with the likes of you two."

The nurses had tested, poked, and probed each of the teenagers, and the doctors had come and gone; and as far as Justin and the girls could tell, they'd been given a clean bill of health.

Justin's Aunt Ruby, their legal guardian, called from Juneau, and they had a happy telephone reunion—laughing, sharing, and reassuring. Ruby wasn't Justin's blood aunt. She had been his uncle's wife, and when his father and uncle were killed in an avalanche, she was the only one left to care for him. For a while she'd lost her critical thinking ability and had dragged her nephew to the Sheba Hill cult in Montana; but she was now fully recovered, newly remarried (her husband's only wife this time), and living happily in a big house in Juneau. When they weren't functioning as interns for Ruby's brother Rex--Justin, Rachel, and Janie lived with her.

"Guess you all will be coming home sooner than planned," Ruby said.

They told her they weren't certain what the park service had in mind for them—maybe a transfer to Denali—or maybe they would be coming back to Juneau. They were sure Rex and Martha would let them know soon.

Later, just before lights out, the head nurse, her expression a combination of disgust and fear, burst into Justin's room where the girls were plopped on the couch. In the hospital corridors bells and sirens started to sound, and the teenagers jumped to their feet.

"We've got a bomb scare," the nurse said. "We're moving everyone outside till we get the all-clear. Terrorist threat of some kind. Crazy maniacs—hospitals no less! What next…schools? You kids can walk down. We'll roll the others. Maybe you can help us."

"Of course we can help," said Rachel.

"So fat Joe's at the
trooper detachment," said Bo Bradshaw, his weasel's face thoughtful. "What was his attitude when they took him away?"

"Defiant," said Paul.

"Good, good," Bo said, nodding. "What was he saying? Can you remember? How defiant was he?"

Timothy said, "He kept yelling they were ignoring his rights, they had no evidence tying him into any of the things we've told you about…Why are you asking about him? We never made contact."

Bo smiled cynically. "Because Idaho Joe would sell all of us out if he thought he could help himself. Our only chance is if he thinks he can beat the rap in court."

Paul said, "He was threatening to sue everybody in town. Very defiant."

"That's good," Bo said again.

The four conspirators then sat down to see what kind of plan they could devise to spirit the girls away from the hospital, drug them, and secure them in the bottom of two of the mining equipment crates. They were operating from totally different motives, Paul and Timothy from belief in the Prophet, and Bo and Charlie from pure greed; but their goal was the same, and they began to flesh out a plan.

"The pilots?" asked Paul.

"Don't know a thing. They think they're waiting for more equipment to arrive for transshipment to Whitehorse."

They schemed for several more hours, and finally Bo said, "I like it. The van, the bomb scare, the heart attack distraction."

When night had fallen and they pulled open the double doors, the huge Hawker Siddeley cargo plane came into view. "We'll have to call the pilots, have them standing by," said Charlie.

Bo nodded. "But I guess we'd better get the twins loaded up first…without the pilots' prying eyes around. We'll call them when we're ready. They're being paid to be ready twenty-four hours a day."

"What about the boy?" asked Paul.

"He's part of the package deal," said Charlie. "You and your partner here deal with him in the hospital parking lot or in the van. Bo and I will be busy with Bo's heart attack."

30
Double Distraction

Janie and Rachel pushed an
ancient woman in a rolling bed down the hospital corridor toward the freight elevator. The woman whooped good-naturedly and considered the ride and the entire bomb scare interlude a lark.

Justin was close behind, weaving in and out of traffic with a grouchy old woman in a wheelchair. "Don't go so fast, young man! You trying to kill me? You want to dump me on the floor? What's this all about anyway? I was right in the middle of my TV program."

The girls' passenger called out, "Stop complaining, Gladys. This is more excitement than you've had in five years."

Gladys harrumphed and repeated her demand that her driver slow down and push carefully.

"Got to get you out safely and quickly," Justin said. "Trust me, grandma, I've had experience getting folks out of trouble."

Gladys snorted, "What does a boy your age know about troubles?"

Janie and Rachel picked up on the exchange and the three teenagers laughed so loudly and energetically that the other travelers in the corridor began to stare.

Once they reached the parking lot on the side of the hospital near the emergency entrance, orderlies took charge of the two women, and Justin and the twins went to stand with a small knot of doctors and nurses. All watched the building intently, wondering what was going to happen next.