The Arcturus Man (57 page)

The Mounties came through. The Bureau almost took it for granted that they
would. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police are outstanding, forced to live up to almost
impossible mythology about their exploits since 1873. Understaffed, underfunded, and
spread thin, the myths are made real from time to time by a dedicated team of men and
women who came to believe the folk lore and began to live it, generation after generation.

Through extraordinary diligence and hours of interviews in towns from Toronto
to Montreal, and beyond, they found an auto rental office in Québec that rented an RV to
a heavy-set, short man that fit the description of Sami Zhidov that was provided by the
CIA.
There were no photographs, but the description was good enough.
Fortunately,
Zhidov’s description was sufficiently bizarre to make him easy to identify.

They combed the records of every international entry point in eastern Canada but
they were not able to confirm the identity that Zhidov used to enter Canada.
They did
boil down the list of persons from various Russian and East European places of birth to
about thirty suspects who had entered Canada in the last month.
The Canadian Intelligence Service is one of the best in the world but very few people know that, even among
Canadians—especially among the Canadians.
Usually ham strung by wacky national
politics, they have a bad rap for not being able to control their immigration. It is a small
miracle that they have a reasonably good handle on it considering the obstacles they face,
but through no fault of their own, people do occasionally slip through the cracks.
The
RCMP began the tedious process of searching for every person on the list.
Most of the
interviewees reported hotels as their temporary residence in Canada. That part went easily and narrowed the list to nine persons. Those remaining suspects reported addresses of
Canadian residents.
If Zhidov was as cunning as the CIA reported him to be, he was
probably in the last of nine, unless they had missed him entirely.
All possibilities were
pursued.

The Mounties painstakingly reviewed digital video recordings for the past month
of all border crossing points into Maine.
The hard work paid off.
The rented RV was
positively identified crossing into Fort Kent, Maine, from Clair, Quebec, five days ago.
The passed all of the information they gathered to the FBI as soon as the information was
verified. They even shared some conjecture.

The RCMP sent a liaison officer to the Maine side to coordinate with the Bureau.
Interviews in Fort Kent also paid off.
The RV had stopped in Fort Kent for fuel and
some groceries. People remembered the RV. They learned that the RV had driven south
on Route 161. A young man in a convenience store sold the short fat man a gallon of vanilla ice cream.

They searched all afternoon and well into the night.
A few FBI agents kept
searching until the next morning, especially Agent Cabet.
About midmorning, they got
lucky again.
They found the RV camped on the banks of Daigle Pond on Martin Road
off of Caribou Road, Route 161. There were clear signs that the suspect and the captive
had been there.
Most of the kidnap victim’s clothes were found
in bushes around the
camp site. Tire tracks were found near the cabin. They were new. The FBI data base in
Quantico identified that the tires were from a Land Rover. This information was instantly linked to a local police report of a black Land Rover being stolen in Portland about two
days earlier. The license number and description of the Land Rover were disseminated to
all law enforcement agencies in Maine and Québec.
More interviews were conducted,
but none of the locals remembered seeing a black SUV. The Land Rover was too expensive for most of the people living in the region.
It was odd that no one recalled seeing
one, but that happens some times.
They were getting close, but time was running out.
Jenny would die in the next few hours if they couldn’t find her.

Sami drove through Fort Kent holding his knife in Jenny’s side.
It was a small
town with a population of barely 4,000.
He finally let down his guard when he crossed
the outskirts heading west. He followed Route 161 toward Dickey, crossing the St. John
River west of the town. The Maine-Canadian border was bounded by the St. Francis and
St. John Rivers for many miles but it was an open land border west of Dickey.
Sami
pushed further west arriving at Kelly Brook Mountain in less than an hour after they left
the camp site. There were very few cars on the road.
Sami was certain now that he was
safe.
The border into Quebec was only twenty miles west.
He would be going off-road
for most of the way, following fire breaks and old logging roads, and some places cross
country.
It would take well over an hour, perhaps two to go twenty miles.
Although he
had never been here before, the route was carefully mapped by the Colombians several
months before they made the disastrous assault on Eagle’s Head Island and Jared’s home.

He kept pushing his face into the wind shield as he drove, looking into the sky. He
was short and his lard belly made it difficult to see up. He was driving much too fast
while he was doing this. At first Jenny couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but then it
dawned on her. He was worried about helicopters…police helicopters. They were looking for him. She had a chance. She tried to look up but didn’t see anything. If she spotted what looked like a police helicopter, she vowed that she would jump from the vehicle…no matter how fast he was going…no matter the chains on her ankles or not. She
might break a leg or an arm…maybe get a concussion, but whatever the damage, it was
better than being dead.
And even if the jump killed her, at least it would be by her own
doing. She watched the skies, praying for a helicopter.

Sami always gave the enemy the benefit of the doubt. It was better to give the
enemy too much credit than not enough. He assumed from the outset that the stolen Land
Rover would be tied to him sooner or later and that they would be searching for it.
The
counties in this part of Maine are huge—some of the largest counties in all of the United
States. Sami counted on law enforcement being spread so thin in northern Maine that the
odds of running into them were too low to worry about.
Air surveillance, on the other
hand, was a different matter.
He was very concerned about being spotted while he was
on a regular highway. If he could get into the old dirt trail, he was home free.
The tree
canopy covered the roads almost totally.

Jenny watched and watched. Nothing! Now she understood the bass boat and red
tarp.
From the air the Land Rover didn’t look like a Land Rover.
It looked like a large
boat on a red tarp.
The little slime stole Jared’s trick when Jared did the same thing to
change the appearance of StarWind. The little creep copied Jared.

Using Canadian intermediaries, the Colombians purchased a small parcel of land
near the mountain that had a small shack.
Sami stopped from time to time to check his
maps and compare them to a GPS unit he had in the Rover. As he went further west, the
roads were first rough and then little more than wider dirt paths. The Land Rover shook
violently.
Logging trucks had turned all of the slightly improved dirt roads in this area
into wash boards.

They both heard the helicopter.
Sami drove into a more heavily wooded area.
They couldn’t see the Land Rover through the trees but he was worried about infrared
sensors. They might be able to spot the intense heat coming from the engine. It had been
raining on and off for two days and the leaves were still wet.
The heavy cover and the
water on the leaves would make it difficult to spot the heat signature. Sami had done his
homework. He was a pig, but he was a very smart pig. Jenny thought about jumping out
but it would be futile if the chopper didn’t see her. With her legs shackled he would run
her down in minutes.
She had to play for time.
The whopping sounds of the rotary
blades died away. It was gone again.

He checked his GPS display and finally arrived at the shack.
Sami pulled the
Land Rover up to the shack and parked.
The locals called it a summer camp.
Sami
thought that was amusing. It was a large pig sty as far as he was concerned.

Jenny remained silent the entire trip. She decided that she was going to die fighting. She was going to make a desperate break for freedom if any kind of opportunity presented itself, but a helicopter would be her best chance.
She tried to calm herself.
She
also had to be patient.
She had to wait for just the right moment if she was to have any
chance at all.
She was resigned to the fact that her chances were very slim. She could
accept being killed...if that had to be…but she was not going to be slaughtered.

Sami opened the passenger door and yanked her out.
Jenny sprawled to the
ground.
“Get up Pretty Lady. We walk,”
He was taking her into the forest to kill her.
She was certain of that. Maybe he
had plans to make it last for a while. He would do horrible things to her. Fear ran up her
spine. It was cold fear and it was paralyzing.
She slowly rose to her hands and knees.
She couldn’t stop her legs from trembling. Sami yanked on the chain, pulling her feet out
from under her. The chain cut deep into her ankles again. He thought it was funny.
Her
face was ground into the dirt, cutting her chin on top of the bruises from where he hit her
earlier.
“GET UP! GET UP!
You piss yourself. You dog lady.”
He laughed again. He
grabbed at her, yanking off her stocking cap.
Her hair spilled out. Urine was running
down her legs. She couldn’t help it. She was no longer a person. She was a thing.
She lifted herself up again. This time he didn’t stop her. She was on her feet.
“Walk Pretty Dog Lady,” said Sami.
She still couldn’t take long strides.
She stumbled every time he pulled on the
chain. Her feet were chained too close together. Sami dropped the loose end of the chain.
It was about ten feet of loose chain.
“Pick up chain. You carry chain. This take all day. You walk.”
Jenny bent down and gathered the chain in both hands, but sections kept falling
out of her hands. He slapped her again.
She felt a tooth come loose. She dropped the
chain again and found the end and then carefully folded it into two five-foot lengths, and
then divided it again.
Her hands were free, but her feet were bound.
She didn’t think.
She acted instinctively. Her primitive brain took over.
She opened up the chain and whirled in a circle, whipping Sami across the face
with two lengths of five-foot chain. She screamed an unearthly sound as she hit him. The
small padlock on the end added some weight. It was a very light chain, but she got lucky.
The padlock struck Sami in one eye and several links raked the other. She had hurt him.
She really hurt him. Sami squealed in pain. The rusty chain was abrasive and tore flesh.
She saw in an instant that he was bleeding. Bellowing, he ran for the truck and yanked
open the door.
He was looking for something.
For the moment he wasn’t paying attention to his captive.
In that split second she searched for a weapon.
If she could strike again with
something lethal, she could save herself.
She saw nothing that could be a weapon, not
even a large rock. She didn’t know how badly he was hurt. Jenny ran for her life.
She kicked off the oversized work boots and ran. It was a pathetic run, however.
Each stride was no more than about twelve inches.
She scampered as fast as she could.
She wanted to get into the heavy brush and undergrowth and find a place to hide.
She
knew she couldn’t outrun him. As fat as he was, the pig was surprisingly nimble.
She
had to hide.
She ran for about twenty yards into the densest growth she saw.
She quickly
turned and could see the Rover. She immediately turned hard left to change her course of
direction, hoping that when he came for her he would run straight, giving her precious
seconds to find a hiding place. She ran and she ran.
The chain between her ankles kept
catching on brush and rocks, causing her to almost lose her balance and wasting those
vital seconds. She was leaving a trail that would be easy to follow.
She had to hop at
places to get the chain over fallen tree branches and rocks. Maine had rocks everywhere.
She had to stop making so much noise. Maybe he would run in the wrong direction. Maybe his eye was hurt really badly. She squatted behind a large hemlock that had
branches that grew to the ground.
She held her breath and listened for sounds.
Blood
was oozing from both ankles now but the adrenalin was pumping in her veins and she
didn’t feel any pain. She dared not move.
She couldn’t make a sound.
She squatted inside the hemlock and listened and waited.
She had no watch so she didn’t know how
long she waited. Maybe it was half an hour. It could have been an hour. As she gradually calmed down, her ankles began to throb.
She looked down and saw that some blood
had pooled beside her bare feet.
Ants had found her. Her pants smelled of urine. It became agonizing, but she dared not make a sound or a motion that could give away her
hiding place. She endured the bites.
It had to be well over an hour. Maybe Sami ran off in the wrong direction as she
had hoped.
Maybe he left her behind.
Was it safe to come out?
The squatting posture
was painful. Her legs began to uncontrollably tremble. She kept wiping the ants from her
feet as slowly and quietly as she could. They were biting ants of some kind.
They were
large black ants. They were horrible. Jenny wanted to cry but if she did Sami would take
her on another slaughter walk, but this time he would make sure she faced a slow and
painful death. He would do horrible things to her before she was finally killed.
She couldn’t hold the posture any longer.
She slowly stepped out from beneath
the branches and stood.
She stamped her feet to shake off the ants.
Her ankles had
swelled and now each step was excruciating. She listened. There were no sounds except
from the forest. She peeked around the tree. How far had she run? She didn’t know. It
couldn’t have been very far. She inched her way forward, small step by small step, back
toward the shack. She went a few more yards and then a few more yards.
Jenny dropped to her hands and knees and crawled forward.
She peered through
the underbrush, keeping her body as close to the ground as possible.
She could see the
outline of the shack.
She edged forward a few more inches, pushing her face on the
ground. The Land Rover was still there.
Was Sami still in the forest searching for her?
Her heart pounded.
She was certain that he could hear her heart beat…it was that loud.
Could he have left the keys in the Rover?
No.
She must not have that hope, but yet,
what other hope was there?
Should she crawl back to the hemlock and stay there all
night and try again in the morning.
She had no coat. It would be intolerable when the
temperature falls. The chain had only broken her skin. The bleeding would stop in time.
She could endure the pain. But if there was a chance to escape now…should she try?
Sami was in a rage after her attack. He might have left the keys in the Rover. He
might have lost good sense because of his fury to find and kill her.
It was possible. She
made up her mind. She crawled out from her cover and slowly worked her way to the
Rover.
She decided to crawl under the Rover and wait there for a few minutes to make
sure that he’s not around. Jenny crept slowly. She started to crawl under the Rover and
then she froze.
She saw a part of a dark grey shirt on the opposite side of the rover. She closed
her eyes and prayed. It was a silent scream. It was Sami. It was his ugly shirt. The area
was heavily treed but it was mid-morning, the rain had cleared, and a slit of sunlight was
shining through the canopy, highlighting Sami’s shirt. She opened her eyes and looked
again. She adjusted her body for a better look past the heavy tire and stared into Sami’s
black eyes. He was on the ground looking under the car. She screamed. This time it was
a loud, piercing scream. She rolled on her back and screamed holding her hands over her
face. She shuddered and trembled.
It was over. She had tried her best. She was going to die. The panic went away.
All fear has a breaking point when it becomes resignation.
It wasn’t bravery. It was just
how all living things are wired. Jenny reached her breaking point. Shock was setting in.
When she was a little girl she learned that rabbits could be scared to death. She was a
rabbit.
But…there were no sounds of anyone running. Nothing happened. Sami didn’t
come running to her. She didn’t understand.
She rolled back to a face down position. She mechanically looked again.
Those
hideous black holes were still staring back at her. They didn’t blink. They just stared. He
hadn’t moved at all. He was still there, lying on the ground on the other side of the Rover…staring at her from beneath the Rover.
“Get up Miss Nilsson.” The voice was behind her. The voice had a heavy Spanish accent.
“What?” She panicked again. She wanted to scream but nothing came out.
She
slithered like a lizard half way under the Rover.
“I am not here to harm you. Believe me. Here, let me help you,” said the voice.
“NO. NO. NO,” said Jenny. Her voice was almost gone. It sounded raspy.
The intruder took several steps backward, away from the Rover.
“I am not here to harm you. I am here to help you,” he said again.
Jenny peered back. If he had wanted to kill her, she would be dead already. Maybe he was telling the truth.
She cautiously worked her way out from under the vehicle.
She propped herself up into a sitting position.
“May I approach?” asked the stranger.
Warily, Jenny nodded OK. Maybe he was a cop?
He knelt down very slowly.
He had a small key.
He opened both padlocks and
removed the dog chains.
He stood up.
He balled up the chains and threw them into the
bushes across the road.
“Zhidov was a very bad man. I am so sorry this happened to you Miss Nilsson. I
did not arrive soon enough. For that I ask your forgiveness.”
“Who are you?” asked Jenny.
“My name is Rubio Collazo Matos.”
Jenny look puzzled. The name was familiar.
“I am the former enemy of Jared Siemels.”
Jenny pulled back. She felt dizzy. The terror was more than she could cope with.
“But not to fear, he spared my life and it is a matter of honor to repay such a debt.
He is an adversary one can be proud to surrender to,” said Rubio. “I am not a vain man.”
“You are the one he fought in Panama?” asked Jenny in a time timid voice. She
was a rabbit, just a little rabbit. She thought about Jared. He was gone. She fought against
remembering him.
“
Claro…
Yes,” said Rubio.
“You and I also briefly met in a carnival town in
Maine, but you probably didn’t notice me.”
“You were there? Were you with the men who set that poor man on fire?” asked
Jenny. His voice was calm and gentle. Maybe he wasn’t going to kill her. Maybe it was
alright.
“I didn’t want that.
It was a very bad thing those men did and it wasn’t necessary," said Rubio. “They, of course, paid the price for their unnecessary cruelty.”
That was also a horrible memory. Jared killed four of them. She stared at Rubio’s
face but the men who attacked the vagrant were so far away it was impossible to recognize them in the darkness. Whatever her feelings about that night and what this man may
have done, now was not the time to challenge him.
It was a mistake to talk about what
happened at Old Orchard Beach. Slowly, she was regaining her composure.
Rubio held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her up. Her feet were free and
she could walk again…normally.
“You have been injured badly.
Please, come into the cabin.
There are medical
supplies there,” said Rubio.
She didn’t respond but she did follow him as he led her to the cabin.
As they
walked around the Rover, she saw Sami lying on the ground. See could see a bullet hole
in his temple.
Blood soaked the dirt around his head.
It was brown.
Black flies were
swarmed on Sami’s head, attracted by the blood. It was horrifying. She averted her eyes
from the corpse and walked up the steps to the cabin door.
Rubio held the door open. Jenny was hesitant for a moment, but realizing that she
was at his mercy no matter what, she stepped into the cabin.
Primitive was an understatement. There were three metal folding chairs and a sixfoot folding table.
She saw an old iron frame bed with a badly stained mattress.
There
were no pillows or blanket. The cabin had two rooms and a closet. One of the rooms was
probably a bathroom.
The kitchen sink was filthy.
The cupboard doors were all open.
The shelves were bare.
A small refrigerator was to one side and a propane gas stove on
the other. The door to the refrigerator was missing. Thieves must have broken into the
cabin many times. Anything utilitarian was gone.
Rubio pulled one of the metal folding chairs closer to the sink and signaled for
Jenny to sit down. She did. He pulled open a drawer and removed a kitchen towel. The
towel was grey and some kind of stuff was caked on it. Even the thieves didn’t want it.
He went to the sink.
There was a hand pump on the sink. He pumped the handle. After
the faucet sputtered for a minute or so, a steady stream of water finally came out of the
spigot. He wetted the towel and handed it to Jenny. It was a dirty towel but her face was
dirtier so she didn’t mind. She wiped down her face and got off most of the dried blood.
Her lip began to hurt again.
Rubio drew his large knife. Jenny was startled for a moment until she saw that he
was using the knife to pry up floor boards. He reached down and pulled up a large metal
box. It was suspended by ropes beneath the floor, hanging in the crawl space beneath the
cabin. He carried the box to the folding table and opened the lid. He took out a first-aid
kit. There were two hand guns in the box but he set them aside, within Jenny’s reach. He
sat on the floor in front of Jenny, holding a tube of antibiotic cream and bandages.
“I have some experience with this. May I?” asked Rubio.
Jenny nodded yes.
“How did you know that was there?” asked Jenny.
“In a matter of speaking, this is my cabin. I bought the land and cabin more than
a year ago,” said Rubio. She nodded that she understood.
He took the towel that Jenny had been using and rinsed it out.
“I am sorry. There is no hot water.”
“That’s OK,” said Jenny.
He rolled up her pant legs and washed her feet and ankles with the towel.
He
emptied one pocket of his jacket. He dropped car keys, a cell phone, a Swiss Army knife,
and a handkerchief onto the card table.
He took the handkerchief and dried her feet and
then wiped the ointment on her ankles where the dog chain had cut her. She winced, but
appreciated the care she was getting.
He found gauze bandages in the first-aid kit and
wrapped her ankles.