The Alberta Connection (32 page)

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Authors: R. Clint Peters

Tags: #thriller, #crime, #mystery, #spies, #espionage

BOOK: The Alberta Connection
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Ryce had an idea. Approximately two feet from
the entrance door was a large bracing beam. Ryce pulled a long
length of parachute cord from his pack, tied the cord around one of
the blocks, and looped the cord over the beam. The block was now
suspended two feet off the floor and two feet from the door. Ryce
tied a long piece of cord to the block and began to pay out the
cord as he walked back up the tunnel. O2 motioned for the rest of
the team to move away from the door. The tunnel made a small jog
about two hundred feet from the entrance. The jog looked as if it
would sufficiently shield the team if the door had been
booby-trapped.

Ryce looked at O2. “You do realize if the end
of the tunnel goes boom, we will have to walk all the way back
through the mountain?”

Ryce pulled on the cord tied to the block and
let go. The block hit the door with sufficient power to open it
almost half way. Ryce pulled on the block once more and let it go.
He opened the door a little more. Apparently the door did not have
contact switches.

Ryce was content to wait a full five minutes
before approaching the door. He pulled out his mirror and extended
the rod. A careful examination of the opposite side of the door
showed nothing. Ryce stuck his head out of the tunnel. When he was
not shot at and was not blown up, he walked through the
doorway.

Less than ten seconds after Ryce emerged from
the tunnel, Ramona was on the radio. When Ryce answered, Ramona
confirmed that she had one hot blob on the thermal scan. Ryce told
O2 to come through the door. Ramona confirmed she now had two hot
blobs. When she added that she hoped the second blob was her
husband, Ryce started laughing so hard he could not press the send
button to reply. Ramona added that blobs were often very good as
husbands.

As the rest of the group exited the tunnel,
Dexter brought Ryce up to speed. The three that Ryce was following
were almost three miles east of Ryce’s position. They appeared to
be headed toward Chief Mountain Highway and would reach it in
approximately ninety minutes. Dexter had no one available to
intercept them. Did Ryce have any suggestions?

Ryce heard John’s voice on the radio.

“This is John. I am loading a vehicle as we
speak. I think we are only about an hour from the Milburn Mine
trailhead. It is listed on the paper map, but not on the Internet
map. Dexter, could you let me know when I get close to the
trailhead?”

O2 interrupted Ryce’s conversation with John.
“John, do you have enough people left at the campground to set up
an observation post on Chief Mountain Highway?”

Phil’s voice was heard on the radio. “I can
drop off some people at the junction of Chief Mountain Highway and
Montana 89. I am only five minutes away. I have three Hummers over
here that can get there in ten minutes.”

O2 laughed and keyed his radio. “Phil, if you
park one of those choppers on the side of the road and point that
mini gun down range, you can stop anything.”

Ryce reminded everyone that the recipients of
the laptops had gunned down five people at the mining shack.
Bulletproof vests were the dress code of the day.

The eastern entrance to the tunnel was more
than five hundred feet up an almost sheer shale face. Ryce could
see only the slightest indications of a trail to descend on. O2
moved the group down the hill as fast as possible. Ryce was amazed
none of the team triggered a shale avalanche.

When they reached level ground again, Ryce
set a blistering pace up the trail. Dexter was giving them updates
every five minutes. Forty minutes into the chase, the laptop
killers were forty-five minutes from the highway, but Ryce was only
thirty minutes behind.

At the rate they were closing the distance,
Ryce thought they could catch the three before they got to the
trailhead. They might even get a chance to see the group get into a
car. And if they had a plate number, they could warn John and
Dexter.

Ryce set the counter on his cell phone to ten
minutes and pressed on. He was hoping the next update from Dexter
would show the gap between the team and the killers had
significantly diminished.

The next report from Dexter verified that
Ryce was catching up to the three men they were chasing. At the
speed they were hiking, Ryce was now eight minutes behind the three
men, who were fifteen minutes from Chief Mountain Highway.

Ryce motioned for O2 to come forward. “We are
eight minutes behind the laptops. We need a point.”

O2 smiled and put on a burst of speed. When
he was about two hundred feet ahead, he slowed slightly to maintain
his relative position to the team.

After less than five minutes, O2 keyed his
walkie-talkie. “I just saw one of them drop down behind a rise in
the trail. Time to slow it down.”

Dexter’s next transmission confirmed that the
gap was getting really small. Ryce continued the pace until the
group caught up with O2. O2 pointed at one of the men carrying a
silenced M4 and then out into the woods. As each man came up, O2
alternated the side of the trail he wanted him to occupy. As the
last man jogged into the trees, O2 sprinted out to the left side of
the trail. Ryce jogged out to the right and then pressed his
walkie-talkie send button.

“Let’s get it done.”

Ryce was following two SEALs as he jogged
through the trees. He was careful to stay away from deadfalls,
ground litter, and brush. His path was constantly twisting and
turning. He could not see O2 or even the men he was following.

The Milburn Mine trailhead was almost a
complete surprise. Ryce came around a small bluff, and there it
was, perhaps a half mile ahead. Ryce looked to his left and saw one
of the people they were chasing exiting the forest.

Ryce closed up the group and scanned the area
with his scope. The three men they were pursuing were huddled near
a burned-out pickup truck. The blackened hulk was the only vehicle
in the parking area of the trailhead. Was this their ride out of
the trailhead? Ryce chuckled. Perhaps these guys no longer had a
way to get out of town.

When Ryce pointed out the burned vehicle, O2
keyed down on his walkie-talkie. “What goes around comes
around.”

Ryce heard another voice on the walkie-talkie
that sounded a lot like John’s. “I am about a thousand feet from
the trailhead exit.”

Ryce asked John to approach at a very slow
pace and stop when he had a clear view of the road leading into the
parking lot. The parking area was a half mile from the paved road.
John should be able to see anyone come in his direction. Especially
three men carrying AK-47 assault rifles.

Ryce led his group in a sweeper movement to
the right of the parking area. The team was now strung out along a
quarter mile line between the trail and the road. He could move his
men toward the highway without being detected by the three they
were following. Ryce almost had both exits blocked.

John notified Ryce that he had parked the
Suburban, his people were now in a good defensive position, and he
was slamming a door. Ryce chuckled. Good plan. The three men with
the laptops would think that John’s Suburban was a ticket out of
the mountains.

Ryce heard the door slam on the Suburban. So
did the laptop group. They started walking toward the parking area
entrance road, but paused when they had gone less than half of the
distance to the highway. A motor home was pulling into the parking
area.

The walkie-talkie again crackled. John
informed Ryce that a motor home had just pulled off the highway and
had entered the parking area. Ryce responded that he could see the
vehicle.

The laptop trio had AK-47s, with foldable
stocks, which had been stuffed into their packs and were not
visible to the occupants of the motor home. The trio waited until
the driver and passenger of the motor home, obviously retired,
exited the vehicle. When the occupants were fifty feet from the
motor home, the trio pulled the AK-47s from their packs. Ryce moved
his group closer to the parking area. He wanted a shot at the
laptop trio.

The group with the laptops apparently
instructed the motor home occupants to empty their pockets. The old
man reached into his right front pocket and extracted a set of keys
that he attempted to hand to the trio. His hand was shacking so
badly, he dropped the keys. When he reached down to pick up the
keys, one of the trio punched him in the back of the head with his
AK-47 gunstock. When the old man collapsed on the gravel, one of
the trio pulled back the bolt on the AK-47 he was holding.

Only one of the laptop trio managed to get
off a shot before all three were cut down by six M4s on full auto.
Ryce saw the lady fall and pointed his medics in her direction. As
they sprinted across the gravel, Ryce also pointed one of his
medics at the old man.

O2 led his team onto the parking area,
carefully keeping an eye on the three lifeless bodies. Ryce
followed his medics to the lady, who had been hit in the thigh. The
bullet was a through and through. Ryce walked over to check the
laptop trio.

The medics were completing the emergency
triage when John arrived in the Suburban. There were now twelve
extremely well-armed men and three very well-armed women standing
over the motor home owners.

John pulled out his Idaho State Police
identification. “My name is John Pendergast. I am a member of the
Joint Border Task Force. We have been chasing those three men on
the ground over there for about a month.”

The motor home driver looked really worried.
“My name is George Haskins. That’s my wife, Mable Haskins. I hope
you don’t kill us.”

Tanya, Marge, and Ramona walked up and
reassured the Haskins that they were not in danger.

When Ryce walked over to the group, Tanya
wrapped her arms around him, gave him a long kiss, and then said,
“I don’t kiss killers.”

Ryce, O2, and John discussed how they were
going to cram thirteen people into a Suburban with only six seats.
As they worked things out, Mr. Haskins attempted to walk to his
motor home. He took three steps and then collapsed once again.

A short conversation with Mrs. Haskins
brought to light that they were camping in the same campground as
the JBTF team. John suggested that his people could drive the motor
home to the campground. Mable was happy to agree. She could not
drive a normal vehicle much less a motor home.

John called Phil and told him where to come
to pick up the bodies. Ryce walked over to the packs dropped by the
dead trio, picked them up, and carried them to the Suburban.

Ryce, Tanya, O2, Ramona, and six SEALs
escorted the Haskins to the motor home. They spent five minutes
trying to find the keys, until Ryce remembered watching the keys
fall out of George Haskins’ fingers.

The ride back to the campground was totally
uneventful. After Ryce parked the motor home, John walked over to
check on Mrs. Haskins. He was now glad that Pen had insisted that
two of her emergency room doctors be part of the support team at
the campground. When John mentioned that Haskins had collapsed, the
medic immediately grabbed his kit and rushed to the motor home.

Ramona and Tanya were still in the motor
home, watching over Mr. Haskins, who had been taken to the master
suite. Mrs. Haskins was in the living area, getting additional
attention from the medical team that had bandaged her wounds at the
trailhead.

A quick examination of Mr. Haskins did not
show anything other than he was in his sixties and had gone through
a traumatic event. There was a bruise and a slight laceration on
the back of his head. The medics applied a bandage, and handed him
a pill for the eventual headache. One of the SEALs escorted Mrs.
Haskins to the bedroom to be with her husband. She protested when
Ramona and Tanya promised to keep an eye on him, but she was not
going to win this contest.

Ramona decided she would make coffee, told
Tanya to watch the Haskins, and walked out to the kitchen area.
Mable protested that coffee was not needed. Tanya smiled and told
her that the woman who had just left the room was a world-renowned
chef. The coffee was going to be good.

Ramona immediately found the coffee machine,
but no coffee near it. She began to inspect the cabinets. The
second cabinet door she opened provided a surprise. Laying on one
of the shelves was a clip for an AK-47. Ramona frowned. Why would
the Haskins have a clip for an AK-47 in the china cabinet? Ramona
was still carrying her Glock. She removed the weapon from its
holster and returned to the master bedroom.

The door to the suite was still open. Ramona
could see Tanya sitting in one of the chairs in the room, but Mrs.
Haskins was not visible. Tanya had removed her jump harness on the
drive back to the campground. She was no longer carrying her Glock.
If Mrs. Haskins had a weapon, it would have already been in the
master suite.

Ramona locked the send key on her
walkie-talkie in the on position. She carefully and silently placed
her Glock on a small table near the door and walked into the master
suite.

“I couldn’t find any coffee.”

Ramona stopped. Mr. Haskins was holding an
AK-47 pointed at Tanya. Mrs. Haskins told Ramona to come into the
suite and sit down.

“We have a slight dilemma. Somehow, three
packs that belong to Mr. Haskins were placed in the Suburban at the
trailhead where you shot those three men. Inside those packs were
three laptops that we were asked to return to their owners in
Canada. Our recovery fee is two million dollars per laptop. If your
friends want you back in one piece, you need to bring us the
laptops.”

Ramona was watching the window behind the
Haskins. Ryce’s mirror suddenly appeared in the window. The trick
with the send button had worked.

Mrs. Haskins reached into the nightstand
beside her and pulled out a revolver. She looked directly at
Ramona.

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