The Siberian Incident 2 Page 3

  Maddock answered in the affirmative. Minutes later, they were once again riding across the rolling snowy surface on the way to the hunting grounds.

  Maddock sat quietly with his hands grasping the hot hand warmers, he didn’t attempt to turn them down to a cooler setting this time. What had he seen? Like many of the things he’d witnessed in his life, it was probably better not to think about it. He was a master of putting things out of his mind, things that disturbed him, unsettling things that he’d seen in his life. He turned this thought off and began to think about the Muskox hunt ahead of them.

  Now in the east, the dark black sky was beginning to turn a dark shade of blue, the sun was starting to rise. Maddock estimated the time now to be about 11am.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Hunt

  THE GLOWING BEAM of orange shot like a bolt of fire across the icy landscape as the winter sun rose above the horizon. They would now have light until about 4pm, and Scott and Torngarsuk had planned to get the entire hunt done in one day.

  Maddock wasn't entirely sure why they had such urgency to finish the hunt in a day. He and Scott were avid campers, and Maddock had camped in harsher conditions than this. Maddock could only assume that the two Inuit guides were more than comfortable spending an evening out in this wilderness. Perhaps there was a reason they didn't want to stay out here, his thoughts turned once again to the man he thought he saw a few hundred yards away when the Bearcat had shut down.

  Again he banished this thought from his mind. It was stupid. Both of these Inuit men were quite attuned to the dangers out here. He was sure they'd have noticed if anything dangerous had threatened them. He'd noticed that Amaruq had his hand on a sidearm the entire time they'd stopped, no doubt ready for any threats which could have surprised them.

  They rode down into an area from which he could see the rising sun gleaming off the Beaufort Sea. It was in this picturesque spot that Torngarsuk stopped his sled.

  The other two sleds shut off their engines, and a quiet was now pervasive. The slight breeze coming off the sea was the only natural sound perceptible. It was now nearing noon, but the area had the beauty and calm of early morning.

  Then the men began walking on the crusty snow and removing the supplies from their sleds. Maddock wished that Scott, Torngarsuk, and Amaruq would stop for one moment so he could enjoy the quiet serenity of the place. Still, there would be much more time for quiet reflection later in the day. He grabbed the Savage 99's case and put it near the other supplies.

  "We'll set up our tent here, then get you close to a herd. I see them out there at least three groups. Look with your scope," Torngarsuk ordered Maddock.

  Maddock looked through the expensive Swarovski scope, he could see groups of perhaps a dozen or more of the alien-looking beasts in the areas where Torngarsuk had pointed. He definitely had an eye for their quarry. The man was one of the best hunting guides he'd been with. Others would have been upset about the sled, or some might have even blamed him for it. Torngarsuk calmly instructed him on what to do and made sure the hunt continued.

  Maddock watched as Scott took his PSE bow from the case. He looked at the silencers on his bowstrings and pulled the string back and looked through the peep sight. Gently, he released the tension until he had eased it back to its undrawn position. The kid had grown into a strong man, his arms didn't even shake as he performed this task, and he had clearly drawn the bow many times and was comfortable with it.

  "Well, who's first?" Torngarsuk queried.

  "Age before beauty," Scott said, nodding at Maddock.

  "Okay, well you hike up to that ridge, you should have a shot from there," Tongarsuk instructed.

  Scott put his bow back in the case and accompanied Maddock on what was probably a 400-yard hike to a ridge that overlooked the Beaufort Sea.

  "How's everything going, you enjoying the hunt?" Scott asked quietly as they moved stealthily through the snow to avoid spooking the herd they approached.

  "This is amazing, again, I'm not sure why you decided to take me along. I'm sure you could have found someone you'd rather go with than an old man like me."

  "No, no one else could do this Maddock, you're the only person I'd want along on this trip."

  "Well, thank you, this is an incredible experience," Maddock said, crouching with the Savage 99 as he moved through the snow.

  As they crested the ridge, Scott got onto his hands and knees and peered through a set of binoculars that he pulled from his parka.

  "Oh yeah, there's one down there, second to the right, see him?"

  Maddock, too now laid down in the snow and again looked through the scope. The animal Scott spoke about was the largest and appeared to be the leader of the herd. It stood milling around amongst the rest of the group. Then Maddock heard it make a low growling noise almost like the beginning of a lion's roar. It's vocalization perturbed another of the strange-looking beasts, and they suddenly rushed at each other. They collided with an incredible CRACK! It sounded almost like a gunshot as the two massive animals hit each other and then sparred with their gigantic horns.

  The battle was short-lived as they then went back to milling about and poking at the ground with their noses.

  "That's a good shot," Scott said, looking through the binoculars.

  Maddock nodded and then slowly and carefully racked a cartridge into the gun with the lever-action. It no longer stuck like it had the last time he'd shot it in the '60s. The action was smooth and quiet. He clicked the safety off. It also seemed more seamless and more mechanically sound than he remembered.

  The scope was much better than the small Weaver scope that it once had. The sight picture was clear, and it was almost like the beast was standing right in front of him. He could see individual furs on its coat and its strange hooves.

  He had studied the anatomy of the Muskox after Scott had suggested the hunt with him. Maddock confirmed with Scott that no other animals were in the path of his shot. It was the hunter's responsibility to ensure that he only took one animal and did not shoot multiple animals with pass through bullets. He put the crosshairs right behind the front leg of the animal and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing seemed to happen at first. The herd stood, looking seemingly oblivious to the shot. The animal at which Maddock had aimed didn't even move. Had he missed? He slowly and quietly racked another cartridge into the chamber and continued looking through the site. Suddenly, the bull's front legs seemed to give out. He struggled back to standing and again appeared to be unharmed. Taking advantage of his weakened state, another beast challenged him, ramming him. He stood steadfast as the younger bull then turned. He began walking back to the herd, who now walked away from the injured muskox. The wounded bull struggled to walk toward them and then sat down in the snow as the other animals trotted away.

  "You got him!" Scott whispered.

  Torngarsuk approached with Amaruq pulling an empty wooden sled behind him. Torn peered down at the animal with binoculars.

  "That was a good shot, pretty sure he is dead," Tongarsuk said.

  After several minutes, they saw no movement from the majestic beast. They walked the 150 yards to the area where the animal lay in the snow. Blood was everywhere. Huge splotches had poured out of the muskox bull, especially where it had been rammed by the younger bull. It now lay motionless in the snow.

  Amaruq and Torngarsuk made quick work butchering the beast on the spot. The massive heavy hide came off in one piece, and then they quartered the animal and Amaruq put it on the sled.

  "We'll come down here with the snow machine and pick it up," Torngarsuk said, "We brought your bow, you're going to need to get closer for a shot with this."

  Torngarsuk handed Scott his PSE. Maddock hoped they did not ask him to hand over the Savage 99. He kept it slung over his back as they began the walk to the next herd.

  CHAPTER SIX

  New Quarry

  BLOOD SPATTER ON the snow indicated that Scott had hit his target within the beast. Ho
wever, it had not dropped in place like Maddock’s bull. The blood was consistent, and large patches lay in the snow, but the splashes of blood were nowhere near the massive pools that Maddock had created with his shot.

  It was now becoming late in the day, Maddock estimated that it was around 2:30 which meant they had around 90 minutes of daylight left. There were few places for the wounded animal to hide. Maddock could see it lumbering ahead around 100 yards, slowly moving away as they approached. The snow gave Maddock and Scott a foolproof way to track the muskox. They had approached twice now, thinking the muskox was dead. Both times it stood up and continued walking when they got close enough that they thought they might be able to take the beast.

  Scott and Maddock could speak freely during this time, as there was no longer a reason to maintain silence. It was only a matter of time until they were able to reach the muskox and ensure that it was dead. Maddock had been impressed at how quickly Tongarsuk and Amaruq had skinned and quartered the muskox he’d shot with the Savage. He felt that the final 90 minutes of daylight would provide ample time to catch, skin, and load Scott’s muskox.

  He chose to express his one concern about the trip to Scott as their boots crushed through the snow.

  “This has been an amazing trip, Scott. I really want to thank you,” he began.

  “Oh, you’re welcome,” Scott said, keeping his eyes ahead for the wounded muskox.

  “One thing, though. I just don’t feel right, allowing you to pay for all of this. You’re a young man starting out your career, you can’t be making enough to pay for all of this. You have to save up some money for your future. I mean, what I imagine you’re paying for all of this could provide you with a nice downpayment on a house.”

  Scott laughed, “Let’s just get this muskox, Maddock.”

  “Well, really, you have to let me give you at least $10,000 for this trip. I have it. You surely can’t. Being an accountant in Columbus, Ohio, this has to be a lot for you. You can pay me back when you make partner.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Maddock,” Scott said.

  “Why not? Really, I’ll write you a check when I get home. Take it, I would feel better.”

  “I can’t allow you to do that. Besides, that would be almost half of the $25,000 you’re being paid for next week’s job in East Asia.”

  Maddock paused, his heart began beating rapidly, and his mouth almost instantly dried. Like the man he’d seen in the scope, surely, this was a figment of his imagination.

  “Excuse me?” He said, implying that he had not heard Scott.

  “You know, your job next week, you’re being paid $25,000. If I was paying for this trip, maybe, knowing that, I would let you give me some money for it.”

  “What the? Who is paying for this trip if you aren’t? Is Colin Crossfield involved here?” Maddock stood, his heart pounding in his chest, he grabbed Scott by the lapels of his parka.

  “What the hell is going on, is this some kind of joke? Is Colin Crossfield behind this? Did he hire me?” Maddock said, anger building in his voice.

  “No, the United States government hired you,” Scott explained. Maddock loosened his grip on the young man’s jacket, and the anger in his eyes became a puzzled look.

  “How does a junior accountant at some firm in Columbus, Ohio, know about this black op then?”

  “Because I’m not a junior member of Culbert & Swenson. That firm doesn’t even really exist.”

  “You’re not an accountant? What did you go to school for then?” Maddock was again becoming angry.

  “Yes, I’m an accountant. I’m an accountant for the CIA.”

  “What?” Maddock said in disbelief.

  “Yeah, I hired you. We have a lot to talk about, but we have to catch this muskox first.”

  Scott turned away from Maddock and continued through the snow to the muskox he had shot. It sat now, silent and still. The great beast was dead, and it had finally found its final resting place.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Departure

  THE TWO NATIVE men made quick work of skinning the muskox. With the professionalism of commercial butchers, they skinned and quartered the beast and loaded it onto a wooden sled that trailed behind Amaruq’s snowmobile.

  “You two can take that sled together?” Torngarsuk asked, pointing to the sled that Scott had ridden up from the village.

  “I think we’re only a mile out,” Scott answered, “I think we’ll make it.”

  “Have them send me the coordinates, and we’ll try to retrieve it tomorrow. Right now, that information is above my security clearance.”

  “You got it, Torn, thank you,” Scott answered.

  Maddock stood dumbfounded, still not entirely understanding if this was a big joke or he had actually heard Scott correctly.

  “You’ll get your mounts six months from now,” Torngarsuk said, “Nice souvenir of your hunt. Now stand for a picture.”

  Torngarsuk would have the muskox’s heads mounted and sent to Scott and Maddock so that there was no doubt that they had been in Alaska hunting the muskox. Maddock wondered if the photo was some kind of confirmation that they had reached a rendezvous point.

  “Are you ready to go to Russia?” Scott asked as Torngarsuk and Amaruq snowmobiled away.

  “We’re a little further from Russia than that thing will take us, Sarah Palin,” Maddock said.

  “Oh, we’re just taking this to the vehicle that will get us there.”

  “What is there an airfield out here?”

  Scott shook his head, raised his hood, and dropped his goggles over his face. Clearly, he wasn’t interested in answering any more questions. Maddock, whose head was full of uncertainty and questions, reluctantly hopped on the back of the snowmobile, and Scott gunned the machine onto the frozen ice of the Beaufort Sea.

  Adding to Maddock’s unease was the unevenness and rough terrain of the ice. Massive ice boulders as big as houses littered the vast open expanses where Scott drove the snowmobile. A mist of snow went around them, and Maddock could taste the salty spray, which made him more nervous. He expected that like boiling, freezing would somehow remove the salt from the water, but the ice retained the Beaufort Sea’s brininess. This meant that it also kept its low freezing point. The thought made him happy that the temperature was dropping as the sun’s setting rays were filtered through a strange green glacial heave in the ice.

  Scott eased the snowmobile over a large crest in the ice and then shot forward as the ice appeared to be smooth ahead of them as far as Maddock could see through the salty spray.

  Now the lights of the machine illuminated the snow as they traveled maybe 50 or 60 miles across the surface. Maddock also became aware of the green glow of an LED GPS by which Scott navigated. As Maddock strained to see the numbers reported by the GPS, Scott abruptly stopped.

  He got off the sled and searched his pockets. Maddock stood as well, waiting for Scott to say something to him. He removed what appeared to be a small remote control and pushed a button, a red light began blinking on the top of the device.

  “Alright, now we wait,” Scott said.

  “For what?” Maddock asked.

  “Our ride,” Scott answered.

  Maddock was puzzled as to how safely an aircraft could land, even with as smooth as the ice was. Perhaps they would be picked up by a helicopter that wouldn’t need to set down. Questions and concerns streamed through his head that went far beyond their mode of transportation.

  “You want to explain what’s going on, Scott?

  “Well, here’s your brief,” Scott said, handing Maddock a thick envelope, ”This will be a clandestine operation in Russia.”

  “Russia?” Maddock gasped, “I didn’t think that was the theater of the mission.

  “Eastern Asia is the theater, you agreed to work in Eastern Asia. Siberia is Eastern Asia.”

  “Siberia?”

  “Right, well, our first operation will be to meet an asset in Vladivostok.”

  “Vl
adivostok and Siberia? This sounds familiar, what is this mission’s objective?”

  “I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that it involves Colin Crossfield.”

  “What? How is the agency allowing you to be assigned to a mission involving a family member? Isn’t that against the rules?”

  “Well, I work for the CIA, we sometimes do things we aren’t supposed to. I believe you had some experience in an operation involving Iran and Nicaragua in the ’80s?”

  “Yeah, I may have taken orders from Colonel North on a few missions, I’m still not sure I am allowed to talk about it.”

  “The guy who shot Bin Laden already wrote a book about it, I think you’re safe.”

  “Okay, yeah, I worked on the Iran/Nicaragua op.”

  “So you have experience in unofficial, off the record, illegal operations. I thought your profile lined up nicely with my objectives. And, I spoke to Colonel North, you came highly

  recommended.”

  “You talked to Ollie? That son of a bitch, alright well, what is going on? I thought that Colin was acquitted of all that Russia stuff 10 years ago.”

  “He was, although I don’t think he should have been. Colin has been taking a lot of trips to Northern Japan. A village called Chikubetsu about 120 miles north of Sapporo. Money has been coming out of one of his accounts to a village official there. Recently they built a municipal airport. The airport has a 7000 foot runway, which happens to be the minimum takeoff distance for a Gulfstream III, the plane he owns. I think he’s flying his plane out of this small village, and the airport official is helping him hide it from Japanese air traffic control.”

  “What’s he doing in Russia?”

  “That’s interesting, each time he goes to Japan, large sums of money are deposited into his Swiss accounts from an account in Dubai. We traced that account to a Russian oligarch. Demitri Stephanyevich. He’s a close personal friend of the Russian president.”

  “What are they paying him for?”