David Golemon - Primeval

"Jesus, can that girl ever give a straight answer to anything?" Ryan said angrily as he watched Sarah quickly follow Marla.

In extreme exasperation, Ryan followed. The woods were thinner here and for that he was grateful. He saw Sarah's back as she dipped and then straightened to come through the thinning trees. Suddenly, he ran into her backside as she came to an abrupt halt.

"What the—"

Sarah was just standing there, amazed at the sight she was looking at in the large clearing. Jason stepped around her and his mouth wanted to drop open. There, sitting pristine and shining in the bright sunlight were four, brand-spanking-new Sikorsky helicopters. They were the newest top of the line S-76 turbojet models. Their four bladed rotors drooped and swayed in the light breeze. Ryan brought up the M-16 and Sarah followed suit with the AK-47. Marla turned in front of them and shook her head.

"There's no one here. I came upon them just before I found you. These are the same ones those Russians arrived in."

"The pilots must have gone with them," Ryan said as he started to step out from the tree line, but Marla was quick to grab his arm.

"No, the pilots were ordered to stay, I heard that head Russian myself. I just assumed they went back to Juneau or someplace."

Ryan listened, but still couldn't grasp any danger. "Okay, we spare one and disable the others."

"You're not hearing me, Mr. Ryan, the pilots are missing," Marla persisted.

"Okay, young lady, you have our full attention, so I think it's about time you shed a little light on what's happening around here."

Marla looked at Sarah, dropping the restraining arm from Ryan.

"Okay, I fear those pilots may have run into the same thing you and Sarah did last night." Her eyes stayed on Ryan.

"Those gunshots, you mean?" Sarah asked.

Marla just nodded her head once while examining the makeshift landing area where the giant Sikorsky choppers sat. Sarah thought the scene was unreal. The empty helicopters, the wind whistling by the swaying rotors and the open staircases of the four aircraft lent an air of ghostliness to the scene that gave her cold chills.

"Look, Marla, what is happening here?" Sarah persisted with her earlier question.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Sarah said still looking around, the AK-47 turning as she did.

"You don't look like the type to believe in myths and legends," Marla said looking from Sarah to Ryan.

Both of them exchanged looks but didn't smile at the foolish statement made by the girl. How could she know what they did for a living or the things that they have been witness to?

"We protect one of those legends here, or maybe they protect us, I don't know. But there are animals in these woods that belong here even more than the Indians that inhabit this area. They were here thousands of years before everyone, and this is their home. I'm afraid those Russians may have done something stupid last night and have paid dearly for it, or soon will. They protect their own."

Suddenly, there was a crackling sound coming from one of the choppers. It was loud in the stillness that now held sway over the clearing. Sarah looked at Ryan and she could tell he was feeling the same creepiness that overwhelmed her on this bright, clear, sun-filled day. Before she had a chance to ask what the crackling sound was, it came again, and then what seemed like a voice.

"Oh, God," Sarah said with a loud exhale, "it's a radio."

Ryan eased his way past the last of the trees and made his way to the first chopper in line. Sarah and Marla slowly followed. Jason leaned into the first of the well-equipped helicopters and saw that at first sight all looked normal. The plastic-covered interior was immaculate compared to the sparseness of the Bell Ranger they had been working on the night before. The windows sparkled and the carpeting on the floor smelled of its newness. As Ryan tilted his head, he heard the radio in the front cockpit come to life with a crackle and then a Russian voice come out of the speakers. It became insistent when there was no return answer.

As Ryan braced his feet to enter the Sikorsky, he felt a crunch under his right foot. He stepped away from the opening of the helicopter and looked at what he had stepped on. He looked from the object on the ground to Marla. The anger was etched in his features and his eyes were blazing. He kicked the smashed microphone from the choppers radio toward the spot Sarah and Marla stood.

"I suppose you didn't destroy the only way we had for calling for help?" Jason asked.

Marla held Ryan's gaze and gave back some of her own.

"I said before, Mr. Ryan, we will not allow the outside world to destroy what we have here. All of the invaders of the high country are on their own. If they're good, or bad, it makes no difference — you or the ones you are looking for don't belong here."

Sarah didn't know what to say, she was dumbfounded that Marla would go to those lengths knowing what the Russian assault team had done to the Mounties and to themselves.

"We have friends out there, and now it's time you let us in on your big secret. Jason, pick one of the helicopters, it's time we go and find Jack and the others."

Lynn was watching the men as they lowered the tents and started placing the expensive equipment into their waterproof cases. The soldiers started placing heavy packs onto their backs as they made ready to cross over. The boats were filled and Sagli and Deonovich looked satisfied that their goal was within sight.

The search for the missing man had lasted all of five minutes as Sagli declared that he would eventually show up, and that seemed to satisfy most of the men, especially the Spetsnaz who weren't too interested in searching for the man at any rate. The others looked surprised that more of an effort wasn't forthcoming and wondered if the same effort would be in place for them if they disappeared. There were a few grumblings, but Lynn knew the men would never show it to Sagli or to the brute Deonovich and their group of hard nosed commandos.

A Spetsnaz came over to where she was sitting on a large stone. His weapon was slung across his shoulder as his dark eyes peered into her own.

"You are now my responsibly and I have orders to break something on your body once we have crossed the river if there is any troubling from you, are we understandings each other?" he asked in poor English.

"Nyet," Lynn said as she stood.

The man looked confused for a moment, and then he saw that the woman was toying with him.

"Good, then I will enjoy the tasking of my duty to breaking your arm sever-ling times."

"Okay, just kidding, pea brain. Shall we go boating?"

The man stepped aside, deciding instantly that he did not like the American and how it would be a pleasure to break her bones.

The last of the larger tents still stood and inside Dmitri Sagli threw the microphone down and it struck the radio operator.

"You mean to tell me they didn't check in last night and you felt it did not warrant informing me?"

The small operator cowered away from the demented eyes of the ponytailed Russian.

"Did it occur to you that we left those helicopters there to be safe, out of harm's way in case we had company arrive here in the form of the Canadian federal authorities? And now they do not answer their radios at all — four pilots and not one of them is monitoring their radio? Gregori, this man is no longer needed: Dispose of him, we do not need fools from here on out."

Deonovich stepped forward and pulled the radio operator from his chair. The other technicians in the room stood.

"You wish to comment on my order?" Sagli asked, eyeing each of the soft-skinned men one at a time. "Very well, let him go. If any of you fail in his duty again, and think that I do not need to be informed of any and every development, small or large, you will remain in this godforsaken place, is that understood?"