4. One Hundred & Twenty Kilometers
One Hundred & Twenty Kilometers
Steve
Kai has the regional map spread across the dining table before the rest of us finish breakfast.
Rose confirmed the glove belongs to Honor twenty minutes ago. More importantly, she gave Kai a sweater Honor wore the day before she disappeared.
Maskwa is outside with the other dogs, waiting.
Kai taps the old mine road he photographed last night. “If her scent takes us this way, we’ve got a problem.”
I look at the map. “How much of a problem?”
“Potentially a hundred and twenty kilometers of it.”
“Shit.”
Jax leans over the table. “Road?”
“Not one I’d trust.”
Kai traces the route north. “Lockhart used this section when the mine was operating openly. Some of it’ll still be passable for their vehicles, but there are washouts, old forestry tracks and stretches nobody maintains anymore. Snow changes everything.”
Angus studies the satellite image. “Helicopter?”
“Fastest way to tell Lockhart somebody’s coming.”
That kills that idea.
Kai points toward the compound. “If Honor’s there and they hear aircraft approaching, we lose any advantage we have. They could move her before we land.”
“Or worse,” Jan says.
Nobody needs her to elaborate.
I look at Kai. “Snowmobiles?”
“Too loud once we get close, and they won’t go everywhere the dogs will.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“Sleds.”
I stare at him. Kai looks completely serious.
“Of course it bloody is.”
Jax grins.
Kai ignores both of us. “We use the dogs for the distance they can cover safely, then cache the sleds and approach the last section on foot. Maskwa tracks Honor. We follow him.”
Angus folds his arms. “How long?”
“Depends on snow, weather and what we find along the way. We’re not racing. Loaded sled, search conditions, unfamiliar trail, we plan for delays.”
Which means we plan for nights out there too.
I look at the winter gear Serenity packed, suddenly appreciating her paranoia considerably more than I did yesterday.
“I’m coming.”
Kai looks at me. “No.”
I stare at him. “Wasn’t asking.”
“Neither was I.”
Jax suddenly becomes very interested in the map.
Kai taps the route north. “You know how to travel one hundred and twenty kilometers through boreal forest at thirty below?”
“I know how to walk.”
“Great. Do you know how to recognize overflow before you put your foot through river ice? Build shelter when your gear’s wet? Read snow covering a muskeg? Handle a sled team?”
I fold my arms. “No.”
“Then you stay here.”
Angus coughs into his fist. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
“Careful, Bear.”
Kai looks between us. “Jax knows this country. Angus knows extraction. I know the trail and the dogs. Three is enough.”
“Right.”
“And you?” Jan asks.
I grin at her. “Management.”
Jan pats my arm. “Don’t worry, love. You can stay here and manage with me.”
“Thanks, darls.”
“We can keep working the names and Lockhart connections with Rose,” she says.
“Yes, and stay on Victor and Felicity. If we find Honor, we’re going to need somewhere safe to bring her.”
“And whoever’s with her,” Jan says.
Exactly.
Kai folds the map and picks up the sealed bag containing Honor’s sweater. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. First Maskwa tells us whether she was taken north.”
I look through the window at six dogs already on their feet. “Then let’s ask the bloody dog.”
White Pine Lodge, Northern Manitoba, Canada. 0830 hours.
Kai and I stand over the dining table while Jan finishes checking the medical pack she wants sent with them. Across the room, Angus and Jax are sorting the last of the gear for the sleds.
Honor’s sweater sits sealed in a bag beside the map.
Kai traces the route from the haul road toward the first section they intend to search today.
“You were a cop,” he says.
“Yeah. Sydney Police.”
“How long?”
“Ten years. You?”
“RCMP. Five years out.”
That lines up with what he told us about his sister last night.
“You leave because of her?”
“Partly.”
He studies the map rather than me. “I joined because I thought the badge meant something. Most of the people I served with thought the same. But an institution can have decent people inside it and still fail the people it’s supposed to protect.”
Can’t argue with that.
“When my sister disappeared, I thought being inside would help,” he continues. “I had access other families didn’t. I knew the procedures, knew who to call, knew exactly how a proper search should run.”
His mouth tightens. “None of it mattered. Once they decided she’d probably left voluntarily, every door started closing. Being RCMP didn’t help me find her. It only meant I got to watch the system fail her from the inside.”
“And?”
“I learned how easy it is to push it straight back down.”
I lean against the table. “Had a bit of that myself.”
Kai looks at me.
I don’t give him my entire history. We’ve got work to do, and neither of us needs a therapy session before breakfast.
“I investigated a trafficking ring back home. Powerful people involved. Money, connections, the usual bullshit. Every time we got close, something disappeared. Evidence. Witnesses. Warrants.”
“Orders from above?”
“Plenty.”
“And you walked.”
“Eventually.”
Kai nods slowly. “Hard thing to do.”
“Staying would’ve been harder.”
That gets his attention.
I look at Honor’s photograph beside the map. “A badge only means something if you can still look at yourself while you’re wearing it. Once I realized mine was being used to protect the people I was trying to put away, I was done.”
Kai is quiet for a few seconds before tapping the photograph of the glove he found last night.
“My sister’s search taught me the same thing. Files can be closed. Reports can be buried. People can be told there’s nothing more to investigate.”
“But there usually is.”
“Yeah.”
The understanding between us doesn’t need much more than that. I know why he keeps searching, and he knows why HAVEN exists.
Jax walks past carrying a waterproof gear bag. “You two finished comparing disappointing careers?”
“Piss off,” I tell him.
Kai almost smiles. Jax keeps going, chuckling to himself.
I point at the map. “You find Honor’s trail, you follow it as far as you safely can. No heroics today. We still don’t know who’s watching those roads.”
“I know this country.”
“And Angus and Jax know what they’re doing if Lockhart decides to object.”
Kai holds my gaze. “You trust them?”
“With my life.”
He considers that, then nods. “Then I will too.”
That’s enough for me.
I offer my hand, and Kai takes it.
Two ex-cops who learned the badge couldn’t always be trusted to find the truth, and this time neither of us needs permission to keep looking.
Northern Manitoba, Canada. 0900 hours.
Kai doesn't leave anything to chance.
By nine, the four of us are outside with the dogs and enough cold-weather gear to make me appreciate staying behind considerably more than I did half an hour ago.
Kai and Jax have been through the equipment together. Angus checks weapons and communications while I watch supplies disappear into waterproof bags and onto the sled.
Food. Fuel. Medical kits. Emergency shelters. Spare gloves and socks. Hand warmers. Satellite phones. Batteries protected against the cold. Everything they need if the weather turns or the trip takes longer than planned.
Jan comes outside carrying another medical pack.
“Add this.”
Angus takes it. “What is it?”
“Supplies for Honor and anyone else you find. Hypothermia treatment, dressings, antibiotics, pain relief, glucose, thermal blankets.”
Kai looks at her. “Could add weight we don't need.”
“Could save someone you do.”
He takes the pack. Smart man.
The plan isn't to cover the whole distance today.
They need to establish Honor's trail first, learn what condition the old routes are in and build four supply caches along the approach.
Far enough apart to keep them moving, close enough that nobody is ever more than one stretch of bad weather from food, shelter and emergency gear.
Today they need to identify the first locations without advertising their presence.
Kai gives Maskwa Honor's sweater.
The dog takes his time with it. Then his head comes up. Kai says something softly in Cree. Maskwa moves.
The other dogs follow, taking the old mine road north.
For the next several hours, updates come through the satellite phone in short bursts.
Honor's scent holds. The dogs keep pulling toward Lockhart country.
Kai identifies the first two cache locations away from the main trail, places they can reach again without leaving supplies where anyone passing through will find them.
Then the updates stop.
Twenty minutes becomes thirty.
Jan looks at me from across the table.
“They're fine.”
“I know.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Doesn't mean I have to like it.”
The satellite phone finally rings. I answer immediately.
“Tell me something useful.”
Jax chuckles. “Miss me already?”
“Not remotely.”
“We found a camera.”
That gets my attention.
“What kind?”
“Trail cam. Well hidden. No markings.”
Kai's voice comes through behind him. “It's aimed across the old mine route.”
I look at the map. “How far from where Honor's vehicle was found?”
“Far enough that it isn't watching wildlife.”
“Lockhart?”
“Can't prove it yet,” Kai says. “But somebody wants to know who comes through this section of bush.”
“Did it catch you?”
“No.”
Of course it didn't.
“What did you do with it?”
“Left it exactly where it was.”
I smile.
Kai's learning HAVEN quickly.
“Route around it?”
“Already found one.”
Jax comes back on. “Maskwa picked it up before any of us did. Stopped and stared straight at the bloody thing.”
“Useful dog.”
“Very.”
I hear Angus say something in the background, then Kai again.
“We're heading back. The scent line is holding north.”
Toward Lockhart.
I look at Honor's photograph beside the map.
The people who put that camera out there think they're watching anyone who comes looking.
They don't know someone has already found it.
We keep it that way.
White Pine Lodge, Northern Manitoba, Canada. 1900 hours.
They come back just after seven, headlamps appearing between the trees before the dogs bring the sleds into the clearing.
Jan and I are already outside.
Maskwa leads them in with the same steady focus he left with this morning. Kai rides the sled with Jax behind him, while Angus comes in behind them on skis. Seeing the three of them return makes one thing very blasted clear.
I made the right decision staying here. Or Kai did.
Doesn’t mean I like it.
Kai brings the team to a stop and starts unharnessing before he says anything about the day. Jax helps with the dogs while Angus unloads equipment.
I help because standing around watching other people work has never suited me.
“How far?” I ask.
“Just over forty kilometers,” Kai says.
“And the scent?”
“Still north.”
Toward Lockhart.
Jan joins us as we carry the gear inside. “How certain are you?”
Kai looks at her. “Maskwa isn’t following a road. He’s following Honor.”
That changes the atmosphere immediately. Someone took Honor north.
Inside, Kai adds the day’s route to the map while Jax marks the trail camera they found.
“Could be more,” Jax says. “If they’re watching one route, I’d assume they’re watching others.”
Kai nods. “Which means tomorrow we stop thinking like we’re traveling through empty bush.”
Angus drops into a chair. “And start assuming someone’s looking back.”
Smart.
“And the other caches?” I ask.
“We place three and four as we push farther north. Once they’re stocked, we’ve got fallback points the whole way in and out.”
I study the distance still ahead of them. “Nearly one hundred and twenty kilometers.”
“Potentially,” Kai says. “Depends where her trail goes.”
I point at the map. “How long?”
“Several days if the scent holds. Longer if weather comes in or we have to work around surveillance.”
I don’t like any part of that answer. Kai notices.
“You want them back alive, you don’t rush this country.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I look at him. He pulls on his coat again.
“Come outside.”
Five minutes later, I’m standing behind one of his smaller training sleds wondering which poor decision brought me here.
Maskwa and Niska wait in harness ahead of us.
Kai points at the runners. “Get on.”
“I thought we established I’m not going.”
“You’re not. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t understand what we’re doing.”
Fair point. I step onto the runners.
Kai shows me where to put my weight, how little movement it takes to affect the sled and why fighting it is the fastest way to end up face-first in the snow.
Then we move.
Not far. A kilometer, maybe two, along the trail behind the lodge. Long enough for me to realize the dogs are reading things I can’t see.
Maskwa changes direction before I notice the trail bending.
Niska reacts to a patch of snow Kai later tells me has been disturbed by a snowmobile.
Kai points out wind crust, tracks half buried by fresh snow and a darker patch near the trees he tells me not to step on because the ground beneath it isn’t what it looks like.
I stop pretending I understand any of it.
Back at the lodge, Maskwa turns us neatly into the clearing, and Kai brings the team to a halt.
I step off.
“All right.”
He looks at me. “All right what?”
“I get it. I’m impressed.”
Tomorrow Angus and Jax go back out with him.
I stay here with Jan and coordinate everything they’ll need when they find Honor.
Different jobs. Same mission.
Out there, Kai leads.
I’m trusting him and those dogs to bring our people to her.