Chapter 40
40
The headquarters of Luke’s operation turned out to be a white canvas covered Quonset hut tucked behind at the foot of the massive rock outcroppings at the far end of Thunder Pass. This particular one was too challenging for rock climbers, but Gunnar remembered hearing about an expert climber who had attempted it three years ago, and perished in a fall.
Now he wondered just how accidental that fall had been. How long had Luke been operating back here?
And what about the climber who had fallen earlier this summer? Maybe that had been deliberate too, an excuse to close off the pass.
Luke untied him from the ATV, and allowed him to roll himself off it, onto his feet, which were still tied together.
Although his hands were now free, he decided to keep that fact to himself for now.
The Quonset hut was filled with computers, the hum of multiple generators, and a pop-up table covered with a large topographical map. Gunnar couldn’t make out the details on the map, but he imagined it showed all the potential escape routes from Firelight Ridge.
“What if the U.S. government says ‘fuck you, that gold belongs to us and you better get the hell out of our way?’” he asked Luke as he rolled his cramped neck.
“They won’t.” He gave a dismissive chuckle. “They’re not the only government I’m talking to. No one wants this to turn into an international incident.”
“What is it you want them to do?”
Luke weathered face relaxed. “I’m a simple man. I don’t ask for much. All I want is what the U.S. government took from me.”
“You mean when they sent your father to prison for drug trafficking?”
“They stole my future. Norsk Shipping was going to be mine. They broke it apart, confiscated our assets. Sold it all off. I want restitution and an apology.”
“You want the U.S. to apologize to you? Who do you think you are?”
Luke grabbed him by the arm and hauled him across the floor of the tent. “I think I’m the one holding all the cards.”
“You mean, the gold. So why not just set up a mining operation and be wealthy for the rest of your life?”
As the guards watched them impassively, the answer to that clicked. “Dmitri. You’re working with the fucking Russian mob and they want something too.”
“You fool.” They reached their destination, which was an iron ring embedded in the rocky ground, with a chain trailing from it. Luke gestured to a guard, who came toward them. “The Russian mob isn’t involved in this.”
Jesus. That meant…was the Russian government working with Luke? What were they up to? Russians explorers and settlers had reached Alaska decades before the Americans had. Maybe they were trying to use Luke and control of this gold deposit to force some kind of concession from the U.S.?
All of this was way over his head, since politics had always felt very far away from tiny Firelight Ridge. But maybe he’d been wrong about that. Politics had reached the wilderness in a very unexpected way.
The guard had nearly reached him. Pretty soon he’d be chained up to that iron ring. But he had so many more questions.
“Why are you so hot after finding my father?” he demanded. “That’s why you’re keeping me here, isn’t it? You think my father will come after me. I’m bait. Why do you want him?”
Luke didn’t answer that directly. “I want you to know, you won’t be marrying my daughter. I would never allow her to marry one of your kind.”
“You mean, a mechanic?” Gunnar said dryly.
“I mean someone connected to Anthony Grant. I should have killed him back in Afghanistan.” He spat on Gunnar’s boot, then gave a signal to the guard.
If he got locked up here, he might never get out. Ruth would be on her own, his father would be vulnerable, and Luke would get away with everything.
He rammed his elbow into Luke’s rib and heard the man grunt. He reached behind him and grabbed him in a headlock, then threw him at the guard, knocking them both on their asses.
More guards came running, but Gunnar dropped on top of Luke, rammed his knee into his back, and grabbed his arm, the one that still held the gun. Using sheer force and willpower, he wrestled with Luke until the gun was aimed at the guards, and Gunnar had a finger on the trigger.
“Back away,” he warned them. He kept a heavy knee on Luke’s body.
Luke wheezed at the guards, “Do as he says.”
The guards backed away, but Gunnar didn’t ease up on Luke’s prone body. Beyond not getting chained to an iron ring in the ground, he didn’t have a plan. Making a run for it didn’t seem possible—as soon as he was off of Luke’s body, he’d be a target.
Besides, maybe there was something he could do here in Bad Guy Headquarters. He cast around the Quonset hut for inspiration, and, as always, went right for the machinery first. Generators, computers. Hand-held radios.
That must be how these militia members were communicating with each other. But there were no radio towers out here. They must have set up their own. They could all be using satellite phones, but he hadn’t seen any of those. They probably wanted their own private microwave radio system. If he could find that tower and disable it, their communications would be disrupted.
“Where’s your radio tower?” he growled in Luke’s ear.
Luke had to cough before he could answer. He called to one of the guards, “Vasily, take Gunnar here to the tower.”
Too easy. They probably had a backup system in place. Communications were too important not to.
But they all relied on power. Unless they’d taken the time to put up solar panels, these generators were probably their only power source. And it would take a lot of solar panels and a hefty battery bank to run a tower, which had to operate twenty-four hours a day.
His mission was clear now. Disable the generators and crash their comms. But how the hell was he supposed to do that when he could see three generators right here in the Quonset hut? What would knock three generators offline long enough to mess with Luke’s plans?
He remembered something his father had said. “Be a disrupter. Create some chaos. If you can mess with someone’s plans, there’s likely going to be a snowball effect. You don’t know how things will end up, but neither do they. He who creates the chaos has the advantage.”
At the time, they were sparring, but that advice seemed to apply very well to the present situation too.
Be a disrupter.
He’d noticed a fuel storage tank just outside the Quonset hut, with a stockpile of gas cans piled near it. They probably hand-filled the generators when they were getting low.
He remembered something else he’d spotted near the entrance.
“Listen, I just want to get out of here alive,” he told the guards. “I’ll let Luke go if you give me that four-by I saw out front.”
The guards glanced at each other. They knew, as he did, that the four-by wasn’t working. He didn’t need it to work. He just needed a spark, and he had complete confidence in his ability to get that from any vehicle.
“Well, Luke? You said I had a choice. All you want me for is to get my father out here. Doesn’t seem like it worked. And it won’t. Would you put yourself in danger for any of your sons?”
He knew Luke wouldn’t do it for his daughter, after all.
“Give him the four-by,” Luke growled. “He’s more trouble than he’s worth. But don’t think you’re going to get far on it,” he added. “We’ve got guards everywhere. And they have shoot-to-kill orders.”
“I don’t want to get shot. I have too much to live for. I’m planning to get married.” He grinned as Luke’s face twisted into a snarl. Keeping a tight hold on the gun, he eased his knee off Luke’s back and stood up.
Luke jerked his head toward one of the guards, who beckoned Gunnar to follow him. He did so, gun cocked, maneuvering each step so he never had anyone at his back. It was a tense walk through the Quonset hut, and Gunnar felt the blood pounding through his veins. He wasn’t used to aiming a gun at a human being. He wasn’t used to this kind of gun, since he mostly used hunting rifles, and those only during deer season.
But his father had taught him to use all kinds of guns. Just one of the many things he’d taught Gunnar.
Create some chaos. Can do, Dad.