| |
Vikersund, Norway
“So, this is Vikersund?” Bones asked, his eyes taking in the snow-topped peaks that ringed the quaint mountain town. Vikersund was the definition of a small town, barely having 3,000 people living within its borders. “I feel like a bull in a china shop around here.”
“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Maddock commented, smiling. “Are you gonna go around and smash the place up or something? Because if you are—”
“Screw you,” Bones retorted, walking away. “I’m blaming you if Kathy Bates comes at me with a sledgehammer.” Two steps later, he stopped and looked back, getting down to business. “Where do we start?”
Maddock stood in the center of town and had a look around. He unconsciously adjusted the watch Tam had given them upon landing. It looked like a simple Apple Watch but, in reality, it was a high-tech piece of spy gear. Its GPS system was better than anything else on the planet and it had a direct line back to Tam. She and a small team were holed up in a hotel in the next town over. If things went south and they needed a quick EVAC, they could do it with ease.
They were in a small clearing surrounded by a circular street, lined with locally owned businesses. Most were of the standard variety: outdoor sports equipment, a grocery store, a hardware store. Remembering that Sorensen was a champion with an axe, Maddock pointed to the sports store.
“Let’s start there.”
The two men walked across the empty street and as they did, Maddock noticed a lone figure standing on the street corner, picking at his fingernail with a small pocket knife. Pulling open the door, Maddock smiled when he looked up and saw an old-fashioned doorbell ding overhead. The simple things. He let Bones enter first and paused for a moment and watched the stranger. Only once did the black-haired man look up, and when he did, he locked eyes with Maddock and smiled. After an uncomfortable pause, he nodded a polite hello and went back to work on his cuticles.
Huh, he thought, but shook his head. They had no enemies in Vikersund. Is ScanoGen already here?
Halfway in the store, Maddock leaned back out and saw that the stranger was gone. He looked up and down the main road but found it empty. It was midday and most everyone in town was working.
Except whoever that was.
He shook his head again and entered the business. Two checkout counters were positioned dead center, just inside the door, and behind them, the rest of the store was filled with rows of equipment. They carried everything from fishing gear to—of course—axes. The entire left-hand wall was covered in them—floor to ceiling—like how some gun stores in the States looked. He wondered if Vikersund actually had a gun dealer. It really didn’t matter since Tam had gotten them into Norway with their sidearms without a hitch, but in the unlikely event that they needed an ammunition resupply, it would be nice to know where to go. Both of them wore holsters positioned at the small of their backs, concealed by their large winter coats. It was so cold and their jackets so thick that they both could’ve probably carried shotguns, too.
“Velkommen, kan eg hjelpe deg?”
Maddock turned and found Bones attempting to converse with a local.
“Dude, do you speak any English?” Bones asked.
“Yes, some,” the shopkeeper replied, smiling.
“Good deal,” Bones mumbled, elbowing Maddock as he approached. “You’re up.”
Maddock took over the questioning. “Torbjorn Sorensen, you know him?”
The man nodded. “Champion.” He motioned to a wall where a tall, strong man held a massive axe on one shoulder. He stood like Captain Morgan with one leg up on a tree stump. His face was in a few of the pictures.
“We were hoping to interview him for our online show,” Maddock said, holding out his hand. “My name is Mike Jagger and this is my partner, Keith Richardson.” They both held out their false credentials sporting duplicate ESPN logos.
“I’m sorry,” the clerk said, “I don’t know where Tor is.”
Maddock smiled his thanks and asked to look around. The shopkeeper looked pleased for the potential business and emphatically nodded. They still needed to find Sorensen before ScanoGen did and decided that staying in the warmth of the shop for the time being was better than the cold of the outside. Maddock preferred the warmth of the Keys. He knew Bones felt the same way, maybe even more so. The bitter cold was something only a lunatic or a polar bear would choose to live in.
The front door dinged for the first time since they entered, announcing the arrival of another patron. Maddock was immediately on guard. Something in the back of Maddock’s brain couldn’t let go of the man on the street corner. Something about him was off.
“Move!” Maddock hissed, pushing the much-larger Bones deeper into the store and then behind the endcap between rows five and six.
“What are you—”
“Shhh,” Maddock warned, finger over his lips.
Slowly both men peeked out, one to each side of the endcap. Maddock wasn’t at all surprised to see the stranger, along with two other men, saunter in like they owned the joint. The other two newcomers were almost the size of Bones while the stranger was around Maddock’s height and build give-or-take an inch and ten pounds.
“This can’t be good,” Bones mumbled, leaning back behind the endcap. “I’m guessing these guys are here for us.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Maddock asked sarcastically. He was stunned at how fast they got to Vikersund. “Whatever Sorensen found, must be pretty important to them.”
Could it really be Gungnir—the ‘real’ Gungnir? Maddock knew one thing, ScanoGen didn’t show up for artifacts unless there was something else about them that aligned with their own goals. An old spear meant little to them unless it held a darker secret. The secretive biotech company loved biologics, especially the ones with the potential to destroy life. Those went for the highest price. ScanoGen navigated the business world without a moral compass and sold death and destruction to anyone who could meet their asking price.
“How are we doing this?” Bones asked, glancing down to the shorter Maddock. At six-six, Bones literally looked down on most everyone, even his partner who was almost six-feet-tall himself. He reached around the small of his back and drew his Glock.
“Quietly,” Maddock replied, pushing Bones’ gun down. “We need to keep our cover intact. It’s a small town and two outsiders with guns will be easy to spot later on. But two regular Joes just defending themselves...”
Growling, Bones holstered the pistol. “Fine, but no promises I ain’t messing up the place.”
Maddock didn’t answer. He peeked around the endcap once more and saw the stranger standing just inside the door. The other two men were gone, however.
Probably looking for us.
Tapping Bones on the shoulder, Maddock motioned for him to go right. He then made a circular motion with his finger and pointed to the front door. They’d meet there when finished.
Nodding, Bones moved off and headed for the first aisle while Maddock moved toward the last. There were a total of ten rows of goods, separated by freestanding shelving units. As he moved down the back aisle, Maddock noticed the place had a backdoor they could use if needed.
He was almost to the rear right corner of the store when he saw something he could use for self-defense if it came to that. The signage was all in Norwegian, a language neither he nor Bones spoke or read, but the object itself was one he’d seen many times.
In the States, they were called King Kooker stirring paddles and resembled a smaller wooden canoe oar. It was sturdy and would do nicely in a fight. Plus, if his plan worked out like he hoped, Maddock would be able to stroll down the aisle with it over his shoulder, doing his best to seem unintimidating and clueless.
Oar in hand, Maddock leisurely rounded the corner and spotted a large, but thankfully, unarmed man. Doing his best not to look the other guy’s direction, he continued forward. Acting like a shopper, he flicked his head back and forth, pretending to be engrossed in the store’s wares.
But he wasn’t.
Maddock was formulating what to do with the stranger once he got through with this one. It looked like a close-quarters brawl was his in future, something Maddock actually preferred.
Then, the man decided to ruin his plan by grabbing a large machete.
Damn.
Gripping his paddle harder, Maddock felt its solid construction. He knew the wood could take a beating and hopefully he could use its three-foot-length to his advantage. Staying out of the hulking man’s reach would be ideal.
Easily bigger than Bones, the bald man was a bull, thick and powerful where it mattered most. Maddock was pretty good in a fight but relied more on his wits than raw power. Whether that gave him the advantage or not was something only combat would reveal.
When they were ten feet away from one another, the other man’s eyes narrowed and he launched his attack.