AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We’re here. That’s the main building. My guides have prepared food and we have drinks available there if you like. If you’re tired, though, I can take you directly to your cabins.”
“Are all of your guides in the main building?”
“Yes.”
“How many do you have working for you?”
Rapp knew he was being less than subtle, but there wasn’t time to screw around.
“Only two,” she said. “My permanent men. In the high season I have as many as six.”
“Why don’t we swing in for a drink, then,” Rapp said. “I’d like to meet them.”
“Of course.”
Irena relaxed a bit and it was no mystery why. According to Nash’s intel, her two guides were brothers, both in their mid-thirties and both born and bred in the area. One was former army and the other had spent eight years roughnecking on oil rigs. They weren’t to be underestimated.
She pulled up in front of a log building and Rapp twisted around to face the rear seats before getting out. “Irena’s going to introduce us to our guides.”
Coleman gave a barely perceptible nod. The hope was that this would go smoothly, but the only thing that really mattered was that it went fast. The clock was ticking.
Snow blasted the exposed skin on Rapp’s face, turning to ice on his beard as they passed through a rough-hewn door. Inside, it was probably only about forty degrees, but that temperature felt like the tropics by comparison.
“The main building is a bit rustic,” Irena apologized. “But don’t worry. The cabins were completely updated only a year ago.”
The modest heat was generated by a single greasy woodstove in the corner. The room was approximately thirty feet square with a rest-room at the back. The door to it was open and Rapp
confirmed that it was unoccupied. Both guides were standing next to a low table arranged with liquor and food. They looked as formidable as expected.
Dumond went straight toward them, giving each a polite smile before going for the vodka. His actions were more the product of his near-death experience on the plane than a preconceived plan, but they worked nicely to divert the men’s attention. Coleman used the opportunity to check out a shortwave radio near the building’s only window. Wicker and McGraw took up positions on either side of the door.
“Alexi, Stepan,” Irena said. “I’d like to introduce you to Mitch Kramer.”
Rapp shook their hands and exchanged a few pleasantries before pointing to a map on the wall. The CIA had some broad-stroked stuff and a few high-resolution photos, but this looked quite a bit more detailed.
“So where are we?”
Irena tapped her finger near the center while her men took drink orders from the rest of his team. “Right here. Tomorrow we’ll go out through this shallow canyon to the north. The plateau it leads to is where the wolf pack has been seen. With the weather clearing, I think we have a good chance of getting close enough for photos.”
Rapp ignored the tourist route and followed the elevation markings toward a dotted line that dead-ended about thirty miles to the east. “What’s that? A road?”
“Of sorts,” Irena said. “It leads to a small commune. It’s kept relatively clear in order to get supplies in and out.”
“What kind of commune? Are they artists? My wife loves pottery.”
“No. They keep to themselves. We won’t be going anywhere near there.”
A cold blast of air hit them and she turned to wave a cautionary hand at Wicker and McGraw as they pulled the door open. “It’s dangerous outside in this kind of weather. If you’d like to go to your cabin, I can send one of my people with you.”
“No worries,” Wicker said. “We’re just going to stand under the light and have a smoke.”
“This isn’t America. You can smoke in here.”
Wicker smiled and they disappeared outside.
Irena motioned for one of her men to follow but Rapp moved to intercept. “They’ll be fine. How about you make me a drink? Vodka.”
He looked at Irena and she shook her head, motioning again toward the door. Based on her expression, she wasn’t sure what was happening and this was her way of finding out. Probably inevitable, but not the way Rapp had wanted it to go down.
