David Golemon - Primeval

"In case you haven't noticed, Sagli, I'm an American, and this" — she mocked him by gesturing around her, just as he had—"is Canada. I'm a city girl by nature."

Sagli actually looked disappointed that Lynn had not only mocked him, she had also not answered his question. He actually had the look of a man surprised that she hated his guts. He just looked at the fire and acted as though he was warming his hands on a not-so-cold night.

"My men, men who served with me in Georgia and Afghanistan, Spetsnaz all of them, are acting like schoolgirls. The noises emanating from the forest has them" — he finally looked at her as he searched for the right word—"on edge."

Lynn wanted to smile at the killer that stood nervously over the fire, but she thought mocking him again would be a dangerous proposition at best. So she looked toward the river instead.

"I suspect that it may be elk, or deer, maybe it's some kind of mating signal, you know, striking their antlers against trees, deadfalls, things like that. Look, I'm not up to date on Animal Planet; I've been a little busy with work and all."

"It does no good to mock me. And in case you haven't noticed, Ms. Simpson, you are sitting here in camp with us, and whatever is making that noise is growing close to you, as well as to me and my men."

Sagli abruptly turned and started walking toward the technical tent to join his so-called partner. As he disappeared inside, Lynn actually heard a call of an elk somewhere far to the north of them. A far different noise from what she had led the Russian to believe as she did know the difference between what an elk and deer sound like in the woods, and whatever that strange noise was that was plaguing the inner thoughts of everyone in camp. She knew that nothing she had ever read about in all of her education made the noises they had heard earlier. She was also aware that Sagli had been right — the sounds were drawing nearer every time they heard them.

For the first time since her abduction, Lynn wasn't so sure that having Russian commandos standing guard around her wasn't so bad after all.

As soon as they had brought the boat up and out of the water and staked it to the beach after their sixty-five-mile trip up the river, they set up a small fireless camp with no tents, Charlie Ellenshaw wandered off into the surrounding woods, necessitating that Everett go out to find him and admonish the curious side of the crazed professor for being careless.

As for Henri Farbeaux, the Frenchman tossed his sleeping bag onto the ground underneath a large tree, and then sat and watched the others. He placed his hands behind his head and watched Collins most of all. When Jack caught him looking, Henri didn't shy away, he just smiled that knowing smile of his.

"I don't know why you tolerate that man," Punchy said as Jack walked by. "The damn French, you can't trust them."

"Come on, Punchy, you're in charge of the only French-speaking province on the North American continent. Don't tell me Quebec and France still has their problems?" Collins looked from Alexander toward the reclining Farbeaux, who watched the two with interest.

"They have always treated not only Quebec as an ugly little sister, but the whole of Canada. They constantly interfere with our inner workings and still have one of the largest intelligence infrastructures outside of Moscow, and for what? To watch little Quebec?"

"Take it easy, old buddy. I didn't think you were that passionate about the ills of your relationship with France."

Alexander didn't say anything else, he just tossed his sleeping bag on the ground and with a last look at the Frenchman, sat down and started removing his boots.

Collins reluctantly looked away from Punchy and his sudden outburst, and looked at Henri. The man wasn't smiling, he didn't even move. Jack knew the Frenchman had heard the exchange between him and Alexander, but instead of joining the small debate, he just turned over and closed his eyes. Jack then threw his own unrolled sleeping bag down on the ground not far from the anchored and beached boat. Everett soon approached him with one of the Russian AK-47s slung around his shoulder.

"What are our orders for tomorrow, Jack?" Carl asked.

"I want to head upriver about an hour before sunrise, if that map and Charlie and the old woman's guesswork is accurate at all, we'll pull into shore around 0930 and we'll hoof it from there."

"And what makes you think they haven't heard us coming already?" Mendenhall asked, stepping up to the two men out of the darkness.

"Because we haven't been ambushed yet — with these killers, they wouldn't hesitate to kill us all if they knew we were close."

Mendenhall nodded his head and bowed to Jack's and Carl's experience in the field because between the two of them they had more combat and black operations experience than any two men in the country. He turned and went over and unslung his weapon, gently laid it down, and then he followed suit. His eyes were heavy and he knew that tomorrow there would be absolutely no rest.

Charlie Ellenshaw had watched the exchange between Collins, Everett, and Mendenhall and he waited until after Will had settled in to lean over Mendenhall to get his attention. Will had already closed his eyes without unzipping his sleeping bag.

"They wouldn't attack us in the dark, would they?" Charlie asked, startling the lieutenant.

"Jesus, Doc, don't do that!" Mendenhall said as he rolled over.

"Well, they wouldn't, would they?"

"Doc, if they knew we were here, yes, they would hit us in the dark. This isn't the old westerns you saw on television. Regardless of what you've heard, Indians, and Russians commandos, do attack at night."

Charlie looked around at the deep woods surrounding their small landing spot. "That's a comforting thought." As he settled into his sleeping bag, the stillness of the night calmed him. There were no beating of sticks against trees, a sound that had kept him terrified and intrigued since 1968. But for now the only sound was that of the light wind as it passed through the upper reaches of the trees.

"I take it we're not going to eat this evening?" Charlie asked, once more drawing the ire of Mendenhall.

Will removed his bush hat and then glanced over at the professor. "No, Doc, we're running a cold camp tonight, no hot grub, we'll eat some MREs in the morning when we hit the river again."

"Lovely" was all Charlie said as he lay down. "Lieutenant?"

"Good God, Doc, what is it?" Will asked opening his tired eyes for the third time since laying down. "I have the guard in just three hours."

"Oh… uh… I just wanted to say good night."

Will shook his head in the dark, feeling somewhat bad for snapping at the old professor. He knew he was just a little excited, and maybe even scared of being in these woods again. And after the story Ellenshaw told them, Will couldn't really blame him for reaching out. He smiled to himself and relaxed.

"Good night, Doc. Don't forget to take off your glasses before you go to sleep."

As Charlie lay down once more he stared at the mass of stars in the sky above. He knew that the others in the Group considered him a nerd, a man more prone to wet himself in a bad situation than to assist, but he knew things to be different for himself. He was far more excited about being back than men like Will Mendenhall would ever believe. He talked through his excitement just to calm the feelings he had about the Stikine and its wildlife.

As he lay on his sleeping bag, he looked over at the now still Mendenhall. He really liked Will, but he knew the lieutenant saw him as an old fool who filled his days with dreams of long-dead monsters and crazy ideas, but Charlie knew himself to be quite sufficient in the field, even though everyone thought him a lab rat. As he thought these things he slowly reached under his sleeping bag and made sure the safety was on the old-fashioned Smith & Wesson .38. Then he felt for the six-inch switchblade knife he always carried for luck. As he felt the two weapons he smiled; no, the old lab rat knew he could take care of himself when called upon — after all, he had been north of the Stikine before, and he knew it may take nerves of steel to face what's waiting for them across the river.