They flew north along the edge of the heavy cloud cover. Daniel sat up front with Bud Bowers. Henry and Rainy occupied the two seats behind them. Stephen sat in the very back.
There’d been little talk since they taxied away from the marina in Aurora and lifted off from the sparkling surface of Iron Lake. They’d watched the cloud bank to the west spill toward them across the sky. The air had become turbulent, buffeting the little de Havilland. Periodically, Bowers checked in with Thunder Bay, the nearest weather reporting frequency, and kept his passengers updated.
“Kenora’s already snowed in,” he reported. “The storm’s moving really fast. I don’t know if we’re going make it to White Woman Lake before everything there is socked in.”
Rainy stared out her window. They’d long ago crossed the Canadian border, but the nature of the land below had changed little. It was a great arboreal wilderness, and the boundary lines politicians had drawn on maps were meaningless. Those lines might change. Who knew? But the land itself had been as it was for millions of years and would continue for millions more. There was comfort in this, in the knowledge that whatever humans did, in the very long run their impact was small when compared with the vast patience that was the spirit of the earth. But it was only small comfort when she thought about the danger Cork was in. Cork and Lindsay Harris and her grandfather.
She saw Bowers put a hand to his headset.
“This is Alpha Bravo three four seven. Go ahead.”
Bowers listened for a while. The plane made a sudden lurch to the left. Bowers dropped both hands to the control yoke.
“I read you, Sheriff. I’ll let them know.”
Over his shoulder, Bowers said, “I’ve got some interesting information to pass along. Seems the sheriff believes that Lindsay Harris may have been in on this from the beginning. In cahoots with whoever took her grandfather. The sheriff’s advising a good deal of caution in your dealings with her.
“Also, we’re diverting. We’re going to make our landing at Gordonville, which is a little town east of White Woman Lake. A contingent from RCMP will meet us there. They don’t want us going to White Woman Lake on our own. A direct order from the Canadian authorities.”
“Screw the authorities,” Stephen said.
“Not gonna happen,” Bowers said. “We’re already in hot water. If we ignore that order and something really bad goes down, who knows what we might be looking at? Jail time? At the very least, there goes my job. Gordonville is only forty miles from White Woman Lake. If the RCMP and the weather allow it, we fly there. If not, you’ll have to find alternate transport. Sorry, folks. Best I can do.”
“How much longer to Gordonville?”
“Half an hour more or less.” Bowers looked toward the looming cloud bank to the west. “May be nip and tuck with that storm.”
The turbulence got worse, and Bowers had his hands full. Rainy began to wonder if the little plane might be torn apart by the forces outside. She glanced at her great-uncle. Henry bounced lightly, like a twig on water, and nothing in his ancient face looked disturbed. She marveled at the strength that kept him so anchored to a peaceful center. She studied the sky. To the east, it was still clear, the sun bathing the land below. To the west lay an angry rush of roiling clouds painted in shades of black and gray. Life, she thought. Always a clash of opposites. Was there ever any real end to that great conflict?
“There it is,” Bowers said.
Out the window, Rainy could see a tiny settlement on the edge of a small lake. It lay just below the mouth of a long, narrow break in the hills to the west, which were cloaked in cloud and precipitation. A river threaded its way out of all that dismal gray. The Manitou, she guessed. They touched down on the lake, and Bowers eased the de Havilland to a little beach near the edge of the town. Daniel got out and secured the floatplane to a sign posted on the shoreline. As he did so, a vehicle appeared from the town and approached them, driving along the beach itself. It was a white Chevy Tahoe, with the RCMP insignia painted across the side. The Tahoe drew to a stop and a lone officer got out. He stood watching as Rainy and the others disembarked, then he came to greet them.
“Constable Rudy Markham,” he said and held out his hand.
Markham was a round little man of perhaps forty, with a ruddy face and eyes that seemed better suited to an affectionate but not very bright family dog. He wore a thick walrus mustache, which at the moment, was dabbed with what looked like hot dog mustard.
Daniel took the proffered hand and introduced the others. Then he asked, “Where’s the rest of your team?”
“Team?” The constable looked confused.
“They told us an RCMP contingent would be meeting us.”
“That would be me,” the constable said. “It’s a one-man detachment here in Gordonville. But we’ve got an incident team coming up from Thunder Bay.”
“They’ve left?”
“Not yet. They’re waiting for someone from CSIS to arrive.”
“CSIS?”
“Canadian Security Intelligence Service. Another branch of the Crown. Apparently they’ve been conducting their own investigation into the activities of the Warrior Cohort.”
“Warrior Cohort?” Daniel said.
“The people they think are behind all this. A First Nations terrorist network of some kind.”
“How long until they get here?”
“Once they get started, it would normally take three hours.” The constable looked at the cauldron of the sky and what was bubbling there. Snowflakes had begun to spill out of that dark, swirling mass. A strong wind had risen, and within it was carried the cold certainty of a storm. “But this weather coming in is sure to slow them down. So . . .” He gave a shrug.
“We can’t wait,” Daniel said. “What if they blow the dam?”
The constable wiped at his mustache and studied the mustard smear on his glove. “As I understand it, you don’t know for sure that’s what these people are up to. And, hell, Aaron would never do that.”
“Aaron Commanda?”
“Yeah.”
“You know him?”
“Everybody around here knows Aaron. And Aaron knows that if he blew that dam, the water would come roaring down the canyon and wipe out Gordonville.”
“What if Aaron isn’t in charge of whatever’s going down?” Daniel said. “Your NSCI folks believe there’s a much larger network involved. This Warrior Cohort, whoever they are, might not care about the good citizens of Gordonville the way you and Aaron do. We need to leave for White Woman Lake, and we need to leave now.”
Markham thought about that. “Any idea how many of them there might be?”
“No clue.”
The constable’s clear, simple eyes considered the hills to the west and the mouth of the canyon, which lay a stone’s throw from the town. “I tried to call the night watchman up at the dam before I came out to meet you folks. Couldn’t get through. I just figured the phone line was down. Happens sometimes when a storm sweeps in.” He shook his head, took a deep breath, and pulled himself up, as if to make himself a bit taller. “This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to drive to the Manitou Canyon Dam and secure it, if I can. Then I’ll worry about Aaron and White Woman Lake.”
“Just you, Constable? Look, we flew up here to help.”
“I can’t take responsibility for your safety.”
“We’re not asking you to,” Daniel said. “And think about this. What if you get up there and discover you need backup to save that dam? Wouldn’t it be best to have it already with you? I’m a trained law enforcement officer. I brought my service weapon, and I know how to handle it.”
The constable chewed on his mustache while he weighed Daniel’s words. “All right,” he finally said, but not decisively.
Rainy said, “I’m an excellent shot.”
The others looked at her with surprise. This was a new piece of information to all of them. Except, apparently, Henry. She’d never told anyone about this part of herself, part of the someone she’d once been, but nothing was hidden from him.
“If I have to, I will shoot to kill. It won’t be the first time.” Again to the obvious amazement of those present. Except Henry. She was relieved when, despite their surprise, no one asked her to explain.
“I get my deer every year,” Bowers offered. “And I’d draw a bead on a man, if it would save Cork.”
“I don’t know about this.” The constable looked suddenly overwhelmed and completely unsure.
“The lives of everyone in Gordonville might be at stake,” Daniel said. “We don’t have time to stand here and argue.”
The constable tugged nervously at his mustache. “I’ll need to check in with Thunder Bay.”
“Know what they’ll do?” Daniel said. “They’ll order you to stand down until they arrive. And if they arrive and find that the town’s been destroyed along with everyone in it, probably us included, they’ll blame you officially because you knew about the danger and did nothing. You want that to be your legacy here, Constable?”
The officer thought that over.
“Alternatively,” Daniel went on, “you can secure the dam and report that to them. Maybe a commendation’ll come from it.”
“I . . .” the constable began, then hesitated. “I guess so,” he finally said. He eyed Henry. “We’ll be a little crowded. I think you’d best stay back, old-timer.”
“A mouse would take up more room,” Henry said.
“No disrespect, gramps, but a mouse would be of more use to me than you.”
Rainy said, “Henry needs to be there.”
“Right,” Daniel and Stephen agreed together.
Constable Markham was wearing a dark blue ball cap with a maple leaf on the crown. The wind gusted suddenly, throwing a flurry of snowflakes at the gathering. The constable’s cap lifted off his head and tumbled across the beach. He ran for it, snatched it up, and settled it firmly on his head. He marched back to the others, trying, Rainy thought, not to look like a complete doofus.
“Okay,” he said with authority. He nodded to Bowers. “You stay here. We might need that floatplane of yours before this is all over. We’re going back to my office and gear up. What’s the frequency on your plane’s radio?”
Bowers told him, and the constable gave him the frequency he’d be using on the radio in his Tahoe.
“Stand by, and if you hear us holler, you come flying,” the constable said.
Bowers looked up at the storm clouds that had already enveloped Gordonville and the lake. “Not sure I’ll be able to help.”
“Then get the word to those who can.” The constable turned and, as if commanding troops, said, “Follow me.”