Chapter 42
42
As they stepped out of the Quonset hut, Gunnar caught the sound of raised voices and saw a number of guards pausing in their tasks and pointing to the ridge above Thunder Pass.
Fire.
Smoke billowed from a spot on the ridge in thick, dark clouds. Even down here, they could hear the crackle of wood being consumed by flames. As they watched, flames raced up a spruce tree, turning it into a skeleton of branches backlit by orange flame.
It had been so dry here lately, no wonder that fire was spreading fast. But what had started it? Usually, out here, lightning strikes were to blame. But there hadn’t been any thunderstorms either.
Ruth.
He knew it in his bones; Ruth had set that fire. Or maybe his father had. Either way, it was deliberate, and it had been done to give them all a chance. To disrupt. To create chaos. To raise the alarm.
As word spread about the fire, he heard someone yell to get a water hose and soak the perimeter. “Tell them not to forget the cell tower,” he warned the guard, who was sticking to his side like a burr.
“Just shut up and get your damn four-by.” He gestured at the broken-down piece of machinery. “Good luck getting it going.”
“Well, I am a mechanic.”
The guard stuck out his hand for his weapon. “Gun first.”
“How about gun second, after I get my ride?”
“Nope. Gun first. Those are my orders. And if you don’t hand it over, goodbye to the four-by.”
“Well, damn. You drive a hard bargain.” He swung his body so he was facing the four-by, which was even closer to the fuel storage tank than he’d remembered.
“Hey,” yelled the guard, but it was too late. Gunnar fired two quick shots. One at the body of the fuel tank, just above the four-by. And the second at the battery of the four-by.
It hurt to shoot up a perfectly good, reparable, ATV. Pinky, among other recyclers, would be furious. But it was all worth it when the four-by exploded, sending a spark into the stream of gas coming from the storage tank.
He ducked and covered his head as the tank exploded with a massive detonation. Bits of steel hurled through the air, one of them embedding itself in his forearm as it shielded his head.
Chaos.
He who creates the chaos has the advantage.
Through the ringing in his ears, he heard shouts and the pounding of feet across the ground. Staying in a low crouch, he ran around the side of the Quonset hut. Everyone else was rushing out of the structure, either with fire extinguishers or guns. The guard who’d escorted him was flat on the ground; and he wasn’t the only one. Gunnar hoped they were okay but didn’t take the time to find out.
Instead he raced in the direction the guard had looked, ever so briefly, when Gunnar had mentioned the microwave tower. It was past the Quonset hut, on a rise just out of sight, with its own generator happily supplying its power.
A bullet whizzed past his shoulder, bare inches away. Damn, someone had followed him. He risked a quick glance behind and saw that it was Luke. Fuck. Luke was an excellent shot. The only reason he’d missed was that he was running too.
He didn’t have a gun anymore—Luke’s had gotten knocked out of his hand by the explosion. Just go. Just go , he told himself. Get to that generator.
There it was, just yards away, a red Honda 15,000 watt beauty. As another bullet hit the ground a foot away from him, he dove for a grass hump next to the generator, landing with a painful thud on top of sharp grass stubs.
He reached for the generator, then yanked his hand back as a bullet grazed the skin of his arm. “Fuck!” he yelled out loud.
Get it done. Turn it off. He shot out his arm again, and turned the key to the off position, then yanked it out and threw it into the grass. The hum of the machine stopped. Hopefully other things stopped, too, like everyone’s comms. And hopefully Luke would have to go activate their backup system and leave him alone.
No such luck. A booted foot slammed into his back and pinned him to the ground. “You little fucker,” Luke growled. “You’re just like your father, getting in my way. No fucking more.”
Gunnar’s face was squished into the dirt, his heart pounding, his arm bleeding. He didn’t want to die, but if he did, at least he’d done something to protect the town that had always protected him. At least he’d fallen in love. At least he’d told Ruth he loved her. At least he’d helped her free herself from her past.
He could die proud of himself. He closed his eyes as he felt metal against the back of his head.
The sound of a gunshot made his entire body jolt. Something fell on top of him.
But he seemed to still be alive. He opened his eyes. Yup, there was that same blade of grass he’d been staring at before the gunshot. Except now it dripped with blood.
He rolled over, no easy feat when Luke’s body was on top of him. Was he dead? He didn’t have time to check, because a six-wheeler ATV was racing toward him, taking fire from two guards running after it. He swiped blood off his face to see better, and let out a shout when he saw Ruth behind the wheel and his father in the passenger seat, holding a sniper rifle.
He scrambled onto his knees and grabbed for Luke’s gun. He used one shaking arm to stabilize the other as he took aim at the truck’s pursuers. He hit one in the thigh, and that was enough to stop both of them, as the other dropped back to help his injured comrade.
The ATV slowed down as it reached Gunnar, but it didn’t stop. His father reached a hand out to yank him inside. He grabbed onto it and flung himself into the rig.
He overshot the landing, ending up partly on the gearshift, partly on Ruth’s lap—and entirely where he wanted to be. With her.
As the three of them hurtled down the slope on the ATV, they heard more gunshots ringing out behind them. Gunnar pushed himself up so he was shielding Ruth with his body, in case any stray bullets made it that far.
“Sit down,” his father snapped. “Don’t make yourself a target.”
“You’re not in charge here, Sergeant Grant .”
He didn’t have time to sort out his emotions at the moment, but he was pretty sure there was some anger in there. Also, plenty of relief that his father was alive, and also a major dose of gratitude—he’d just saved Gunnar’s life, after all.
Once they were far enough away from Thunder Pass, with the chaos of the encampment far in the distance, Ruth brought the ATV to a jolting stop near some thick alder bushes.
“You two could probably use a minute.”
“No.” Gunnar grabbed for her arm as she climbed out of the ATV. After all they’d been through, he didn’t want her to go. The man next to him on the passenger seat felt like a stranger. Ruth was his only anchor right now.
“I have to pee,” she said firmly, then disappeared into the brush.
Gunnar and his father sat in awkward silence aside from the sounds of the wilderness—squirrel chatter and the chirp of a bald eagle. Even though it had been ten years, his father looked much older than that. His hair was entirely gray, and deep lines carved his face. He looked as if he’d been through hell.
“You left,” Gunnar finally said, idiotically. “People said you were dead.”
“I came close a few times. They kidnapped me off the ski trail. Knifed me. I nearly died then.” He lifted his shirt to show the scar tissue slashing across his belly. The sight was like a dagger to Gunnar’s heart.
“Who did?”
“Chilkoots. They handed me off to some Russian guys. They beat me up some more, threw me in the back of a truck. I passed out. Could have died then, but didn’t. When I woke up, I was in a Russian work camp.”
“The fuck ? You mean, in Russia?”
“Yup. It took me seven years to get out of there. I kept trying to escape, they kept catching me. I’m goddamn lucky to be alive. Every time, I thought they’d kill me.”
Jesus Christ. In all his worst-case scenarios, Gunnar had never imagined anything like that.
“Was it because of the gold? Luke said you were looking for it too. I didn’t believe him.”
“I’m sorry, my boy. I’m sorry for everything, and sorry to say it’s true.” The hard lines etched in his father’s face deepened. “Fatal mistake, nearly, looking for that gold. I was at loose ends after my first marriage ended, and I remembered Luke’s—Fredrik’s—story about the gold in the mountains in Alaska. I figured, why not take a swing at a fortune?”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”
“Too dangerous. I was monitoring Luke’s search, and I saw the way he was building up that cult of his. After a while, I forgot about the gold and shifted my focus to keeping an eye on that motherfucker. I tracked his movements, I built that cabin. But he found me out. I don’t know why he didn’t just kill me, but we used to be buddies, back in Afghanistan. Maybe he still had a conscience. Those days are over.”
Gunnar felt a hard shiver run through him. He’d come so close to getting shot in the head by Luke Chilkoot. So fucking close. “Your message. You said you’d see me when it was safe. It’s not exactly safe.”
“No. After I made it back to the U.S., I made it my business to know what the Chilkoots were doing. I didn’t want to put you in danger by surfacing too soon. I moved to Florida, about as far away as I could get.”
“Bridget went down there.”
“I know. But I was gone by then. When Luke was arrested, I came back to Alaska and was about to drive to Firelight Ridge, but then I found out he was communicating with Dmitri Turgenev. Notorious criminal oligarch from Russia. I went to the CIA, and since I’m former Special Forces, they paid attention. They asked me to lay low and keep doing what I was doing, keeping my ear to the ground, monitoring Luke’s activities.”
Gunnar stared at his father numbly. The things he’d been through…the things he’d done…and it had all started because of some hypothetical gold.
“So your name is actually Anthony Grant?”
“Amundsen is my mother’s side of the family. It’s not so far off. I switched to Amundsen after I left the Army. Too many rough memories. Your name is Amundsen, though. Gunnar Amundsen. And I’m damn proud of you.” He tilted his head, his silvery hair moving like a lion’s mane, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.
Gunnar wanted to forgive him, wanted to hug him just like the old days. But so much time had passed, and he still had so many questions, so he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“You grew up to be a fine, strong man. You took care of yourself, and you took care of the town too. And now look at what you just did. You took out their radio tower. Without their comms, it’ll be chaos for them. And your girl, Ruth…she’s something else.”
The flat-out admiration and respect in his father’s voice finally broke through Gunnar’s frozen state.
“Yeah. She is.” He grinned, a huge, delighted grin, and the next thing he knew, his dad’s arms were wrapped around him.