The Viking Seal

CHAPTER 24 - As Luck Would Have It

Stone rolled over in his sleeping bag and saw that he was alone in the tent. He sat up and checked his watch. Seven-thirty and he could see that Gretta's bedroll was all tied up and standing inside the door with her other equipment. He crawled over to the flap and saw her crouched in front of the portable stove cooking something in a collapsible frying pan.

"I didn't realize this trip came with room service." He called, shivering in the low temperature.

"It doesn't." She laughed, looking at him over her shoulder. "This is mine, I've been hiking around for about an hour and I'm famished."

Stone gaped at her. An hour! "You're joking, right?"

"No sir. Got up around five-thirty, packed up my stuff, washed, and covered a part of the grid I took photos of yesterday."

"I didn't hear a thing!"

She shrugged and carried the pan over to the rock wall and sat with her back against it while she ate. "Just habit. Don't get excited."

"I should be nervous; if you can move around inside the tent that quietly what might our friends do outside?"

"Moira's not one for stealth. She prefers the full-frontal assault, guns blazing."

"Wonderful." He pulled back and shut the flap while he got dressed and folded up his gear. When he came out, Gretta handed him a steaming cup of coffee and he wrapped his cold fingers around it gratefully.

"There's some real bacon and one egg if you're interested."

"Oh say, thanks." He wandered over to the wall and sat down out of the cool breeze that was rising.

Gretta laughed and picked up her pack. "I'll be back here at nine-thirty so we can meet Arvil at ten."

Stone blushed and stood quickly. "Uh- aah- sure. Okay. See you then." He watched her clamber easily over the rocks and out of sight. Swell, you jerk, he thought, imagining she was offering to prepare his breakfast.

Gretta returned to the clearing she'd examined the previous afternoon and then did a wider diameter search of the area, photographing anything that looked remotely out of sync with the natural terrain. Further north, as she traversed her arc, she had to climb into a small trench that was filled with the rotted trunks of ancient trees.

She stepped carefully over the first one and realized that to reach the other side she would need both hands free, so she wound up and tossed her pack in a steep arc up the far side. The trunks were covered in a thin sheen of ice and she had to crouch right down and inch her way along until she could step down in between them and plan her next advance.

Casting about for a handgrip, she chose a small root growing out between the rocks about arm's length above her head. A determined jump gave her a purchase and she hauled herself up, digging her boots into the side of the hill. The dirt crumbled away underfoot, and she slipped down, banging her chest against the rocks, then the root snapped and she fell back down painfully under the logs.

"Damn!" She sat up rubbing her hip and checking the scrape on her chin. No blood came off on her hand but she knew that the skin had been rubbed raw. She used a branch on one of the trunks to haul herself up and she leaned on it to regain her breath.

She looked up to where she'd thrown her pack and cursed the fact that she had to find a way up if just to retrieve that. Gretta looked about for something she might use to reach it and pull it back down, and when she crouched down to see about some of the broken limbs on the ground, she saw the rock.

****

Stone sat on the bank of the river and scanned the opposite shore once again for the curious square he'd noticed before. The light was different, he was having difficulty locating it and his temper was rising. Not only was he cold, but the bacon had been cold as well by the time he got it ready to eat, and the egg turned out as hard as a rock.

The sudden movement made him sit up, and he trained the glasses on the spot he thought he'd seen something. A moment later he saw Gretta waving a long stick and then she began yelling. He jumped up and tried to hear over the wind, which had increased considerably and was the prime reason his breakfast had suffered. How the heck did she get over there? He ran along the shore holding up his hands and signalling that he couldn't understand her then just as quickly as she'd appeared, she disappeared.

Forty minutes later she was describing her discovery and how it came about. Stone put his finger on her chin and tilted her face to the side. "We should put something on that," he said. "It's wet and there's bits of crud in it."

"I'll live." She pulled away. "I found it, Stone. You hear what I'm saying? I found it!" She moved about in short circles, checking her watch and pounding a fist into her hand. "What a fluke! I mean I fell in the goddamn trench, and there it was. If I hadn't slipped we may never have found it!"

She took out the phone from the kit and called the boat. The wind was picking up and the rain that had fallen the previous day returned with a more dangerous threat. She spoke and then listened and then signed off, packing the phone away and muttering to herself.

"What?"

"Arvil's on his way. The Captain wants us back on board. There's a new storm building and he wants to find a better anchorage to ride it out."

****

"Jesus, this was a big mistake!" Kenny fought the wheel of the boat and felt it swing about broadside into the waves. He knew by instinct that he should be bow into the wind but he just wasn't sailor enough to manage the stubborn hulk of a boat that seemed to have a will of its own.

"The mistake was getting you as a driver." Moira snapped, gripping the bridge rail with both hands.

"That would be, skipper, Parker said smugly from his position braced in the doorway.

Moira turned her head and burned a hole in his with her look. "Whatever it's called, get over here and help him get this thing turned around and headed back to the dock."

"Are you crazy? In this sea we'd be swamped in a minute. He has to get us into the wind and we have to get out a sea anchor and then we bloody well pray."

"I'm tryin' to bring this thing about; it just won't behave."

Parker pushed off the door and disappeared. A moment later they could see him on deck messing with some machinery and then he was waving his arm in a circle at the window.

"What's he want?"

"Push that button," Moira said. "It's for the anchor."

A few minutes later Parker was at the wheel with Kenny and they had the boat riding like a bucking horse with the bow into the wind.

"Keep it there and for Christ's sake don't let it go broadside." Parker shook the water from his hair and stomped off the bridge.

"That was well done, Parker." Moira said, following him down to the cabins, where he grabbed a towel and dried off.

"Yeah? Well, what wasn't well done was your decision to come out here in the first place. They have to come back some time, we could have waited and got what we wanted then . . . if they even have it." He tossed the towel on the bed and stared at her.

"My plan was to get what they had out here and then leave them out here." She took out a cigarette and lit it with a flourish. "Gretta Lawrence has been a thorn in the side of our cause for a long time now, and this would be the perfect opportunity to end that nuisance."

"Except it isn't. We couldn't take them on out here in this even if we wanted to . . . and I already pointed out that they outnumber us."

The boat heaved to one side and they both fell against the cabin wall. "Jesus, Kenny's havin' trouble up there." Parker made for the door and was stopped by Moira's hand on his chest.

"I'm going to get this done one way or another, Parker. Don't stand in my way." He snorted and tried again to leave, her hand stiffened. "And you will never mention the uh- merchandise in my cabin again." Her look sent a tingle of fear down his spine and he blinked rapidly as she removed her hand, turned and went up top ahead of him.