Chapter 34
34
Before they headed for the compound, Gunnar went behind The Fang to download the app that Bridget had sent him. At first he got no cell service, then it flickered on, one bar, then two. He held his breath as the app downloaded, hoping the signal would hold up.
Once he was on, he logged in with the password Bridget had sent him, and found a message waiting for him.
This is wild. There’s no record of an Anthony Amundsen in the Special Forces, but there is a Sergeant Anthony Grant, who joined the Army the exact same time that Dad said he joined. He left the same time Dad did too. Same birth date, same everything. It’s looking like Dad’s real name is Anthony Grant.
Wow. So Dad had changed his name and moved to a tiny remote dot on the map in Alaska. Why?
Anything else? Did he research Anthony Grant at all?
But Bridget wasn’t currently online; he’d have to wait for an answer to those questions.
He took a quick second to Google the name Anthony Grant, but it was such a common name that he got too many results, and none of them useful.
Except for one.
A photo from 1995 in Afghanistan accompanied an article headlined, US and Norwegian troops in joint NATO exercise in desert. About ten soldiers were pictured, some in American uniforms, others in what must be Norwegian. And right there, in black and white, was a man who could have been Gunnar himself—big, blond, strong jaw.
But his father hadn’t been blond. He’d had brown hair, until it turned gray… Jesus, had his father been dying his hair that whole time?
Another face caught his eye. He peered more closely at the soldier, who wore a beret and a sash covered with medals.
Was that…Luke Chilkoot?
He looked at the caption, which he had assumed would be something innocuous about the soldiers in their formation. Instead, it read: Scion of the Norsk shipping fortune joins fellow soldiers in joint exercises.
He saved the article, then quickly Googled “Norsk.” Before the first article disappeared from his screen, Ruth’s soft voice came from over his shoulder. “Is that Luke?”
“Looks like it, doesn’t it?”
The photo disappeared and the results of his search for Norsk populated the screen. Norsk was one of the five largest shipping lines in the world—or it had been. The company had fallen on hard times in the 1990s, when the owner had been convicted of drug trafficking and collusion with the Russian mob.
Gunnar read aloud from the article. “The family of Einar Norsk held a press conference today to plead with U.S. authorities to allow the convicted trafficker to serve his time in his home country of Norway rather than in the United States. Norse’s son Fredrik railed against the prosecution and called it rigged and illegitimate, vowing revenge against what he termed a politically motivated witch hunt. He offered no proof that the case was politically motivated, but promised that he would soon expose the illegal methods the U.S. federal government used to investigate the case.”
They both peered at the article’s photo. “Do you think it’s him?” Gunnar asked Ruth, since he couldn’t say for sure.
“I do. I recognize that birthmark on his neck. He always said it was the mark of a born ruler, and that was why it looks like a crown.”
“Wow. So Luke was the heir to a shipping fortune until his father went to prison? Did he ever mention anything about that?”
“I’ve never heard about any of this. Do you think his father helped him buy the land?”
“No,” Gunnar said slowly. “His assets were probably confiscated. But I bet a drug trafficker would have all kinds of connections in the criminal world. Maybe someone in the Russian mob got him the funds.” He sucked in a breath. “The heavy hitter your mother mentioned. Could he be Russian?”
Ruth let out a gasp. “Lilith told me about someone they call Uncle Dmitri. I bet that’s him.”
“A five-foot eight Russian heavy hitter named Dmitri. We’re getting closer.”
Ruth shuddered as she stared at the old photo of their fathers. “I guess this explains why Luke hates the government so much. He always talked about being free and answering to no one. I really don’t know him at all, do I?”
“You know some things, but not everything. Same as my father.” Although he hated putting his own father into any category with Luke Chilkoot, the similarities were striking. The secrecy, the assumed identities. “And they knew each other before Alaska. I can’t get over that.”
“Just because they were both in those joint exercises doesn’t mean they knew each other well. It could be just a coincidence that they were both there.”
True enough, but it seemed like a hell of a coincidence. “It’s possible that my father came here to keep an eye on your father. Notice that Luke didn’t start activating his big plans until after my father left.”
Ruth startled as a magpie landed on the peak of the roof and preened its feathers. Jumpy—not that he could blame her.
“Oh!” She exclaimed. “I just thought of something. Maybe Luke didn’t recognize him at first. Once he did, he tried to get rid of him.”
“That tracks.” Gunnar showed her the chat with Bridget. “Anthony Amundsen isn’t his real name. And he was actually blond, like me. And all that shaggy hair and beard—he would have looked really different from the soldier Luke knew. Maybe it took a while for it to click.”
Ruth let out a long sigh. “So many secrets. Come on, we can work through this later. Right now we need to get to Thunder Pass. Are you ready?”
“Mostly. Just gotta make a quick stop at the shop. You?”
She gave him a watery smile. “Oh sure, perfectly ready, I just have to wrap up a few details like who the heck is going to take care of seven little kids while I’m away.”
Damn it. He’d actually forgotten, in all this drama, that she had all those runaways to think about. “Listen. You stay here and I’ll go to Thunder Pass alone. I can find Sarah. Maybe I can blend in with the new militia folks.”
“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “Do you think I’m going to let you go out there alone when we just found out that our fathers might have some nefarious connection? That would be like feeding you to the wolves!”
He grinned and caught her in his arms. “Are you saying you’re worried for me?”
“I mean…of course I am.”
“You’re a sweetheart, you know that?”
“I am?” Her soft gray eyes widened. She felt so good in his arms, her shape curving perfectly against him, and she smelled like wildflowers in the sunshine, and he didn’t want his life to ever not include her again.
“After this is over—” he began, but got no further because Bear called his name from inside the bar
“Gunnar. Ruth. We came up with a plan, you two want to hear it or you want to just kiss all day?”
“I kinda want to just kiss all day,” Gunnar murmured before letting her go.
He checked his phone once more to see if Bridget had answered, and saw that the cell service had dropped completely. Not a single bar to be seen, not even an SOS.
The plan was for a rotating shift of Firelight Ridgers to watch over the kids while Gunnar and Ruth were gone. Gil and Ani were already with them at the Magic Breakfast Bus. Maura volunteered to start teaching classes a little early so the kids would have something to occupy their time during the day. Martha said they were welcome to spend time at the farm if they missed the outdoor life, although she didn’t have space for everyone to sleep there. Elias would be enlisted to sleep at Granny Apple’s with them—they all knew Elias and would feel comfortable with him.
“But if you’re not back by tomorrow evening, we’ll be sending search parties,” Bear told them sternly. “You lay low, find out what you can, keep out of sight, come back quickly.”
Gunnar shook hands on that; he didn’t mind the idea of backup at all.
“The kids’ll be fine,” Ruth kept saying as Gunnar drove to his shop for one last errand. “They’re tough. They’ve had to be. And they’re together.”
“And the entire town will look out for them.”
“Yes, although remember they’ve been taught that Firelight Ridge people can’t be trusted. I’ve told them several times that it’s not true, and that my rules are different from what they’re used to. But it might take a while to sink in.”
“Kids are incredibly adaptable. Look at us. Just two kids raised in the Alaskan wilderness, about to play spy and rescue a damsel in distress.”
Ruth burst out laughing. “Damsel in distress? You don’t know Sarah very well.”