Bobby smiled and said, “I have to get busy. Why don’t you gather us some firewood from the low-hanging dead branches in these pines around this grove.” She did, and was surprised at how many elk had been bedded down. All had fled when the shooting started. Their bed marks were all around the grove.

  Bobby had the knife out and was cutting away the testicles and penis from the bull and cutting around the anus. Gathering wood, she glanced over and saw him tying a string from his pack around the colonic tract going to the anus. Then he slit the hide and flesh halfway up the elk’s body. He made a slit higher up across the throat and reached inside, apparently cutting the esophagus.

  He called Bo over and quickly took her wood and made a blazing fire.

  He then returned to the bull and asked for her help. They swung the hind legs over to the downhill side, and he started removing the elk’s intestines and lungs.

  While she got more firewood, he started working on the cow, and was soon cleaning the knife. Bobby handed her his water bottles, as he stood and looked off into the flurries. She had no clue which way they’d come from.

  Bo almost panicked. “Where are you going?”

  He replied, “Kid, we can’t carry these monsters ourselves. I am getting help.”

  Bo jumped up, proclaiming, “I’m going with you.”

  Bobby said, “You can’t. You have to stay here and protect this meat from predators.”

  “What if a bear or mountain lion comes?” she asked, “You already told me we probably couldn’t bring down any elk with our Glocks, but we did.”

  Bobby said, “Bears are all hibernating and are shy about humans anyway. Mountain lions are the same. Besides, they like to kill their own prey, usually deer, almost always deer. They are scared of grown humans normally.”

  Bo said, “Well what kind of predators are you talking about?”

  Bobby smiled and responded, “Rocky Mountain tigers and Sasquatches.”

  “What?” she said, knees secretly shaking.

  Bobby started laughing. He picked up his pack and slung it on his back.

  “I’ll be back shortly. Just keep wood on the fire and watch for coyotes, foxes, things like that,” he said.

  Bo said, “No problem.”

  She did not really mean that. Bo had no idea what was wrong with her. She was really frightened now, and even more so when she looked at the large trees surrounding her and felt almost claustrophobic.

  Bo felt so all alone. The wind was blowing more softly now, but she was more frightened. Bo patted the grip of her Glock 17 for relief, but it wasn’t that. She could not understand what was going on with her.

  “Bobby” she whispered into the breeze, “Please come back. I’m scared.”

  She whispered it in the manner of a little girl with monsters in the closet. She looked at the bloody field-dressed bodies of the two elk, and suddenly had to relieve her bladder. Bo ran a few steps and squatted down.

  She tried to avoid looking again, but could not help herself. She looked at the animal carcasses again, and immediately began sobbing. Bo curled up next to the fire and reached out, placing more branches on it.

  “This is bullshit!” she exclaimed, sitting bolt upright, and said, “You are a captain in the U.S. Army! You are a cop! Why are you crying?”

  It was as if the question had to be asked for the answer to pop into her conscious mind.

  Bo fell forward, really bawling now. Racking sobs came out. She’d never dealt with it before. Every single time it popped into her mind, it was pushed back down again. Bo cried for several minutes, then sat up, and wiped away the tears. She stared into the fire. Every time anybody ever asked if she had ever hunted, she always said, “No,” but never understood why she lied.

  Her mind went back to that day. Her Uncle Ken was her father’s older brother, and she always felt uncomfortable with the way he looked at her. One time, when she was very young, she saw her mother slap Uncle Ken across the face, right after he came to visit and simply hugged her. Her mommy was very angry, but was keeping her remarks from young Bo’s ears.

  As Bo entered her teenaged years, she started developing her breasts, which were larger and better-shaped than all the other girls’. When Uncle Ken came to visit, his hands always lingered too long as he removed them from his too-tight hugs. She then understood what happened with her mother years earlier.

  It was with the normal denial of family dysfunction and avoiding parental disapproval that Bo agreed to go deer hunting with Uncle Ken, as she was “his favorite niece.”

  Bo was a fifteen-year-old-virgin with a figure that would have made any grown woman jealous. She had dreamed romantic dreams about the man she would love someday, fully and totally. In fact, most of her free time just thinking involved letting her imagination go wild while formulating that man. Her father, a well-respected general in the air force, was the outline for that man to fit into. Bo became an overachiever as a young girl, because she always wanted “Daddy to be proud,” even now, years after his death.

  By admitting the incident, she would have to actually get angry at her father, even in death, for insisting she go with his big brother. Bo was uncomfortable the whole trip, but she did get her deer, a two-year-old eight-point white-tail buck.

  To celebrate, Uncle Ken told her he could not help himself because she was such a great niece and he loved her so much. He pinned her to the ground, panting like a worn-out coonhound, right next to the deer’s still-warm body, and groped and bit and pinched and squeezed.

  He forced himself on her totally, forcing himself into the innocent recesses of her body that she was saving for that special man.

  Afterward, he cried and apologized profusely, until Bo told him she would tell her dad.

  Then, he turned into the scariest person she had ever seen. That look on his face was one of murder, and he told her if she ever told anybody, it would cause a big family rift and nobody would believe her. He would deny everything and his kid brother would believe him over a teenager. He never threatened to kill her if she told, but his body language and his looks told her.

  Until that day, Bo had wanted to become an art professor, but the following day, she made up her mind to become a cop. Sometime later, she decided to join the army and become an MP after getting her degree first. She got her degree in police science with a minor in psychology.

  “Oh, my God,” Bo said aloud into the wind. “Oh, my God!”

  She stared at the outlines of the giant evergreens with tears now dripping slowly off her cheeks. All these years the memory had remained suppressed, but now was flooding into her stream of consciousness. Bo was a rape victim. Bo was an incest victim. The thoughts were rushing in now. She started understanding some of her silly peccadilloes, like losing her breath whenever people would even mention hunting trips, chills she would get whenever she saw a deer, even along a highway, the diarrhea cramps, and vomiting. Now, she felt like two tons had just been lifted off her shoulders.

  Bo’s head was spinning. The beautiful captain was a survivor, for certain, and she now made up her mind that she would have to deal with this later, after they were safe. Bo, however, missed Bobby right now probably more than anytime ever. She caught herself picturing having him wrapping his massive arms around her protectively and letting her rest her head on his bulging chest. She knew she would feel totally safe in those arms.

  Bo shook off the thoughts and added wood to the fire, and decided to break more branches, and she kept herself busy adding more wood to the pile until Bobby arrived with six men from the jet. They were all excited to see the elk.

  A very large man stepped forward, saying, “Major, ah was born and raised in my pop’s huntin’ camp in Montana. My ole man was a big-game guide and outfitter. You let me take charge, and we’ll have these puppies dressed, quartered, and ready to pack in no time.”

  Bobby said,“Absolutely. What is your name, by the way?”

  “Rainbow Flowers,” he said, “but folks call me Rain.”

  “Rainbow?” Bo said.

  “Mah mom and dad were also kinda hippies,” he said with a chuckle.

  Bobby said, “Are you a guide?”

  Rain said, “No, sir. Computer software company out of Chicago.”

  Bo asked, “What do you do there?”

  “President and COO,” he drawled. “But I hunt and fish a lot when I can get away.”

  Bobby glanced toward Bo, and she diverted her eyes briefly, but he was a cop. Something was wrong, and he knew it.

  He grinned at Rain, saying, “Great, Rain. You’re in charge. That will help because Captain Devore thought she saw the outline of a cabin over that way, so she and I will check for it, if you men don’t mind.”

  Rain said, “Get outta heah. We got it handled.”

  Bo was clueless why Bobby said that, but she knew to play along without changing expression.

  One of the men said, “Thanks for all the firewood. It’s going to help staying warm.”

  Bobby grabbed a large stick from the fire, one end burning like a torch, and led Bo away from the grove and past the big trees. Little hiss sounds emanated from the burning end of the stick as they walked along, as snowflakes hit the flames.

  They only went a quarter of a mile, when Bobby found a grove of large rocks up against a large cliff overhang. He immediately broke some low-hanging branches off nearby trees and built a log cabin fire by fashioning the larger sticks in the shape of a box, with smaller ones on top. He then filled the center of the box with pine cones and dried pine needles. He then stuck his torch in and the flames shot up, with tongues of flames soon licking out at the falling flakes on all sides. Bobby cleared the snow away back up under the cliff, and prepared seating spots for them side by side.

  He pulled a small coffeepot from the plane out of his pack and scooped if full of snow and balanced it on the fire. After adding more snow, he soon had water boiling and added coffee to it. He produced two cups from his pack with cream for Bo.

  They started to drink, and she put on her best smile.

  Bo said, “Okay, why the mystery, Boss?”

  Bobby smiled.

  “You and I are partners,” Bobby said, “and I could tell something happened with you while we were gone.”

  Don’t look down and to the left, Bo instantly thought to herself, or he will know I am lying, and smiling, she stared into his eyes, saying, “Bobby, you are loopy. Nothing happened. Nothing is wrong other than being stranded high in the mountains in a blizzard.”

  It was only a split second, he sensed, before she answered, but that was too long. Part of her wanted to tell him.

  Bobby said, “Did I do something to make you angry?”

  “Oh no! Absolutely not!”

  Bobby felt guilty himself now, saying, “Did you get upset when I had a couple drinks?”

  Why did he ask that? he wondered. And again there was a split-second hesitation before her answer. “No, that is none of my business if you want to drink a bit.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I’m an alcoholic,” Bobby said, “So what if I enjoy a drink or two now and then?”

  Damn, why I am I talking about that? he thought to himself.

  Bo got irritated, saying, “Bobby, can we go back? Your drinking is your own business and none of mine. I personally won’t let myself get where I can be out of control, but what you do is your business. I don’t care how much you drink.”

  “Out of control?” he shot back angrily. “I am never out of control just because I have one or two drinks.”

  “Whatever,” she replied, staring into her coffee cup.

  Bobby said, “Bo, what is wrong?”

  “Nothing, dammit!” she snarled glaring at him.

  He felt really guilty now, saying, “You felt like I was letting you down as your partner on the plane before the crash, because I had downed a few drinks, didn’t you?”

  “You! You! You!” she raged. “Why do you have to insist that it has anything to do with you? Can’t I just have my own problems?”

  Bobby got calm and smiled softly, saying, “I thought you said that nothing happened, that nothing was wrong.”

  Bo started to reply, but realized in her anger, she had let him know something was wrong. She fought the feeling, but felt the tears bubbling toward the surface like molten lava gurgling up the esophagus of a mountain waiting to spew out. Then, just as suddenly, the tears erupted from her eyes, and she threw herself against his chest. He was taken aback, but gently stroked her long beautiful auburn hair. Now that the floodgates had burst, Bo could not help herself. She sobbed, and Bobby leaned back against the cliff side and just let her lay her head on his chest and cry.

  “Whatever it is, partner, I am here,” he said almost in a whisper, “You cry all you want to. It’s going to be all right.”

  Bo cried for a good five minutes, and felt so much better having Bobby’s protective embrace around her. Bobby gently lifted her chin up to within inches of his face, and he smiled. He stared into her hazel eyes, now showing green, and something in him wanted to kiss her so badly. He thought of Arianna and felt guilty, as if he was thinking about cheating.

  A soft smile appeared on Bo’s lips and her breathing deepened. Oh, how she wanted him to be with her, right there in the snow and the cold, by the fire. She did not care. If she could look into his intelligent eyes while he was joined with her, it would be heavenly. If she could give herself totally to him, nothing else would matter.

  Bobby was so tempted, especially after her lips parted ever so slightly. He started to move his lips forward, and paused inches from her face.

  An impish smile appeared on his face, and Bobby said softly, “You know, Bo. If you were a male partner, I would not be holding you like this.”

  She sat up laughing, wiping away her tears, saying, “I sure hope not.”

  Bobby breathed a deep sigh of both relief and regret. Bo was his partner, he reasoned, and he knew he could not, should not, have any romantic thoughts about her. She reminded him too much of Arianna and that much love hurt, deeply.

  He remembered the day he was flown into Germany and told of Arianna’s death on Highway 401 in Fayetteville, North Carolina, and the death of his unborn son. He remembered his feelings when he heard it was a head-on collision with a drunken driver who went left-of-center. It was odd how he turned his grief into rage and hate, and he left the army to seek a job in the LAPD as a cop, with one goal: Bust as many drunken drivers as possible. He was so experienced and overqualified that his goal did not work out, as he quickly worked his way into the role of homicide detective. He could not help himself. It was odd that while all that went on, he tried coping by drinking himself, many times, way too much. Bobby just could not imagine life without her. She was his lover, best friend, wife, mistress, confidante, and the only person in his life he had ever really opened himself up to. An obvious adrenaline-junkie, he loved the serenity of simply lying in bed with her and stroking her hair, while he stared into her beautiful eyes and could not believe he was so blessed to have such a woman as his life-partner.

  Bobby stood and kicked the flaming embers into the snow, seeing chimneys of steam and smoke trailing upward into the black, snowflake-littered sky. Then, smiling warmly, he reached down for his partner and lifted her to her feet with no noticeable effort. They headed back toward the harvest of wild game.

  It was much closer to dawn than it was to the previous sunset when the meat packers and army cops arrived back at the campsite. Bobby nudged Bo with his elbow, as they looked at the camp. Those with injuries had been all treated, ladders had been constructed of logs and sticks lashed together, and two crude ladders went up into the emergency doors of the jet. Three crude restrooms had been made using pieces of metal from the jet, and were set up behind the tail of the plane. Luggage had been removed from the jet’s belly, and fires were burning all around. Two men were busy working on continually improving the water and wind-proofing of the giant shelter. A cheer went up when they saw the meat being brought in.

  Bo said, “When people like to say Americans have grown weak, I wish they could see things like this.”

  3

  CALL TO ACTION

  General Jonathan Perry, chief of staff of the U.S. Army, had not slept. He had just left the White House and a late-night briefing of the President, and was now headed back to the Pentagon. The front of his limo sported a flag with four stars. Bobby Samuels and Bo Devore were his pet projects, and he would do all he could before his retirement to see that their careers were always proceeding on the right track.

  Right now, however, he had a much greater concern. He wanted to know if Bobby and Bo were alive or dead. Just since he’d known them, Bo had survived a shootout with a jihadist in a hotel room in Canton, Ohio, Bobby had survived captivity by al Qaeda terrorists in Baghdad and escaped before being beheaded, and eliminated a major al Qaeda assassin in Iraq who had infiltrated the U.S. Army and was a sergeant who killed from within. Now, they had gone down in the Colorado Rockies in a late-spring blizzard in an obvious terrorist incident, and all indications had been that they were probably dead.

  When the general got seated behind his desk, there was a buzz from the little box on his desk.

  “Yes, Top,” he said to Sergeant Major Will Rossberg in the outer office.

  The general’s aide, a colonel, was good, but was home asleep this night. But Sergeant Major Rossberg never seemed to sleep, or eat, or leave his post near the “Old Man.” He made everything function properly around the general. Louisa, the general’s civilian secretary, the colonel, the limo drivers, the valet, even the gardener, all came to the sergeant major when they needed problems solved or if the general needed something immediately.

  “Sir, I got Major Niger on line three, from the air force. Says he has important information for you.”

  “Thanks, Top, and go home and get some sleep,” the general said, pouring a cup of coffee and sitting behind his big walnut desk.

  He grinned when the voice came back, “Yes, sir. Wilco, right after you leave.”

  The general picked up the phone. “General Perry here.”

 

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