Winter Of Discontent 1

Thanks to my editing team. Harddaysknight is my mentor and gives me critical review. SBrooks103x also reads for me. My editors are Girlinthemoon, Hale1, Pixel the Cat and GeorgeAnderson. You guys are awesome and I love you all.

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It was very cold and snowing heavily. When I say very cold, I mean something beyond most people's imagination. I lived 30 miles southeast of Hammerfest, Norway, and when I say cold I mean more than 50 below zero. Sane people just don't go outside in that kind of weather. The slightest mishap and you're a dead man. The only way in and out from where I lived in the winter was by snowmobile or dog sled, and the winter lasted nine months. I lived there for a reason; I wasn't a hermit, retreating from the world or a monk on a pilgrimage. I had reasons.

I was outside feeding the dogs when I heard an almighty thump about two miles away to the south. I stood there for a minute, and when I saw smoke I got worried. Something had blown up and there wasn't anything in that direction for a hundred miles. My cheeks began to freeze and I went inside. I mulled it over in my mind and went to put on clothes. You dress right when it's 50 below or you die. If you sweat, you die. If you don't keep out the wind, you die. If you get wet, you die, and there was a creek between me and the explosion. I took Sam and Bella, my Tibetan Mastiffs, and put on skis. I tied snowshoes to my pack and started toward the smoke. It was making a smudge heading south, and it looked like rubber or oil.

As I got close I could see flames through the trees, and I could see metal. It was a helicopter, one of the Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawks, and it was a mess. I could see bodies. I knew it could carry 12 people and I could see eight lying around in various stages of dismemberment. I had no clue why it had crashed, but it looked like US military. That set alarms off in the back of my head, and I took the SR-25 off my back and cycled a shell into the chamber. I didn't see any movement but I checked the bodies carefully. They were all dead. I approached the aircraft low and there was another body inside. It was a young woman and she didn't appear mangled, but there was a seat lying across her leg. I slipped off a glove and felt her neck. She was alive, but she wouldn't be for long. Her neck was freezing cold. I debated with myself for a minute. I should leave her here and hump back to the house. I knew I wasn't going to do it. The dogs were sniffing around and Bella barked once. I went to her and there was another body. I knew this one.

He was a Ranger named Benson, out of Hunter, in Georgia, and the last time I saw him he was lying on a floor unconscious while I was getting the hell out of Dodge. He was trying to stop me and I couldn't let him. He was alive, too, but not for long. He was bleeding out and I wasn't about to stop it. I left him there and went back to the woman. I got the seat off of her and pulled her out. I took off my pack and got out a blanket and a tarp. I put the tarp on the snow, placed the blanket on top and put her down on the blanket. I rolled her up and put my pack back on. She wasn't heavy, so I draped her across my shoulders. I knew where there was a cave about half a mile away, and I carried her there. It was a squeeze to get in, carrying her, but I made it.

I noticed a deadfall near the cave. I put my pack down beside her and got out a hatchet. I got enough wood to last the night, and in five minutes, the fire was roaring. I put up a reflective sheet behind her and unrolled her. She was shivering and unconsciously tried to hold on to the blanket, but she would warm up quicker with the blanket off. I put snow on to boil and added a soup packet. I carry things like that in my pack in case I'm caught out, and it smelled pretty good. I called the dogs in and fed them. They lay on the other side of the fire and watched me. I checked the girl over and didn't see any obvious bad injuries beyond a bump, swelling on her head. I felt it and there wasn't anything broken in there. She moaned when my fingers probed around it. It obviously hurt. I thought that maybe I should take her home with me, but her company made her dubious. She was dressed like a spook with black winter clothes, and she had a gun. It was a 9mm auto, Government Issue, and that made me even more suspicious. I put it in my pack.

The soup was ready and I poured it into a cup. I sat her up and leaned her against me. I let the soup cool for a minute and poured a little into her mouth. She swallowed and I slowly fed her the whole cup. She began to stir when we were about halfway through. Her eyes opened and she looked at me. She didn't say anything until she finished her soup.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was low and husky.

"You're welcome," I told her. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes," she said. "You're Macalastair Slate."

"Do you know what happened to your chopper?" I asked.

"Yes, someone didn't want me to find you. Benson pulled a gun on us and shot the pilot. We crashed."

"Are you going to tell me why you were looking for me?"

"Maybe; I haven't decided yet."

"What's going to make up your mind?"

"If you don't kill me in the next few minutes, I'll have an idea."

"Did you expect me to kill you?"

"I expected you to have horns and a tail. I didn't expect you to buy me dinner."

I laughed. "Well, I'm not going to kill you unless you try to kill me. Are you going to try to kill me?"

"If I was, I would say no, and if I wasn't, I would say the same thing."

"Yes, I guess you're right, but the same thing applies to me."

"I know, but you fed me and brought me here. If you wanted me dead, you could have left me out there."

"Maybe I'm planning to torture information out of you."

"Maybe you are. Are you?"

"No, but I didn't know enough about you to make a decision to let you die. You look like CIA or NSA. If you are, I may take you back. Are you hurt?"

"I think my leg is broken," she said. "My head hurts like hell. I think I have a concussion and I can't hear well. I think my eardrums are ruptured."

I looked in her ears and she had been bleeding. Her eyes looked normal so I thought the knock on the head would be okay in a couple of days. I helped her stand up but her leg wouldn't take any weight.

"I didn't catch that," I told her. "Do you want me to check?"

"What will that involve?"

"Do you want me to take your pants off, or cut them?"

"Will I need them again?"

"If I don't kill you; yes. We're quite a ways from shelter."

"Then we'll take them off. I don't want to be out there with my pants cut up."

She laid back and I unsnapped her pants. I pulled the zipper down and she cringed a little.

"Relax," I told her. "Whatever you've heard, I don't think you've heard I'm a rapist."

"No, I haven't heard that. Go ahead."

She had long cold gear on under her pants. It was very tight and she winced as I tried to push it up.

"You're going to have to take that off, too."

It was now quite warm in the small cave and I thought it wouldn't hurt her. I pulled at her waistband and her panties started to slide down, too."

"Whoops," she said, and grabbed her waistband.

I laughed and peeled the cold gear down. She had on nice panties. They were red lace and bikini cut. They didn't leave much to the imagination. Her legs were long, tanned and muscular.

"Um, are you going to ogle me or help me," she asked.

"Both," I told her. "I do enjoy a good ogle every now and again."

She laughed. "Just look at my leg."

It was badly bruised but the break wasn't compound and there wasn't any curve to it. I wrapped it up in an elastic wrap and pulled her cold gear back up, reluctantly. I helped her back into her pants.

"You have nice legs," I told her, "Nice panties, too."

She blushed furiously. "Thanks, I guess. My name is Caden Rush, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you, Caden Rush. I like that name."

"Thanks again. What are you going to do to me, Mr. Slate?"

"Nothing, if you mean kill you or hold you hostage. We might do some things together. It depends on you. If you tell me why you're here, I might help you. I won't let you die, but if you're here and your interests are opposed to mine, I might have to stop you. I'll do that however I have to. How did you know I was here?"

"I didn't. I knew you were in Norway and somewhere up north off the grid. We were just trying to get wind of you somewhere. We were checking towns. Will you tell me where we are?"

"No, not until you tell me why you're here."

"Well, the dance goes on," she sighed. "Did you really kill a Seal team in Macon?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why did you do that?"

"Why did they tell you?"

"You had information vital to National Security. They were trying to extract it and you killed them and escaped. Is it true?"

"Part of it is true. I have no information vital to National Security. I've been gone five years. Is the nation falling apart?"

"Yes, but not because of you."

"By 'extract' they meant torture and drug. That's how they were 'extracting' the information."

"I see. Now the question is, do I believe you?"

"I don't care if you do or don't, Miss Rush. It doesn't matter to me. I didn't come looking for you."

"So, we're at a stalemate. How long can we stay here?"

"A couple of days. I can only feed the dogs one more time."

She looked across the fire at them. They raised their heads when they felt her eyes on them. Sam rumbled in his throat, but Bella thumped the floor of the cave with her big fluffy tail.

"What kind of dogs are they? I've never seen such huge furry dogs. Are they friendly?"

"They're Tibetan Mastiffs. They're friendly to my friends. Bella is friendly to everyone unless she thinks I'm being threatened. Sam hasn't made up his mind about you."

"What would they do if they thought I was threatening you?"

"Don't make them think that. You wouldn't last a minute. They would kill you, even if I hadn't taken your gun."

"Can I have it back?'

"Maybe. If you tell me why you're here, I might give it back."

"We keep coming back to that."

"I know. That's where we're stuck."

"You were right about me," she said. "I'm not CIA or NSA, though. I'm with the Special Operations Group."

"So you are CIA. I don't remember what you do exactly, but I know that."

"Technically, we're part of the CIA, but we run our own show."

"You conduct intelligence operations in hostile countries, if I remember right. Is Norway hostile?"

"No, but you're considered hostile."

"I'm hostile to the CIA," I said.

"I don't understand that," she told me. "Why are you hostile to your own government?"

"Well, there's a little matter of kidnapping, torture and bondage I didn't care for much."

"I don't believe that happened. I was ordered to come here and talk to you," she said.

"Just talk? That doesn't sound right."

"I'm going to try to convince you to come back home," she said.

"I am home," I told her. "You're wasting your time. Why would I come back to be tortured and imprisoned?"

"You're supposed to come back because you like me," she said.

"I do, but it isn't going to happen," I told her. "Is there something special about you?"

"Yes, I'm related to you," she said.

"Really? I guess I shouldn't have looked at your panties, then."

She laughed. "We're not related by blood. Your wife, Sarah, had a twin sister. Her name was Melissa. Did you ever meet her?"

"No, we were only married three months before Sarah died. We were in Africa all that time. Why do you ask?"

"I'm Melissa's daughter. I'm sort of your niece."

"Well, I'm glad to meet you and I'd like to get to know you, but I'm not going back."

"I hope to convince you that things have changed. You would be in no danger if you went back. There's been a sea change, Macalastair. Things are different in the agency and in the military."

"Why did you need a Ranger team to talk to me then? Why are you here with me and your chopper is out there burning?"

"Benson was a rogue. He still thought you should be found and eliminated. We didn't know he was part of that."

"How many more are there like him? You have no idea, do you?"

"No, I don't. That's why we need you. You can tell us and we can get rid of them."

"Well, Miss Rush, I have to tell you that I don't give a damn. You can all go to hell as far as I'm concerned. Not you, personally, but the whole nasty bunch. I'm out and I intend to stay out. I'd like to get to know you, but I won't be going back."

"Okay," she said. "I just have to accept that. Stop calling me 'Miss Rush.' My name is Caden. What are you going to do with me?"

"If I take care of you until you can go, are you going to tell them where I am?"

"Yes, I believe that we need you. I'll tell them why you won't come in and advise them to let me work on you."

"You're persistent. I admire that. How are you going to persuade me?"

"I'm going to seduce you," she giggled. "Do you know that was what they wanted?"

"I can believe it. Jesus, girl, how can you work for people like that?"

"I don't work for them. I work for my country."

"You work for lines on a map? You fuck people for that?"

"No, I work for an idea. I work for freedom, the right to determine the course of your own life, the right to make free choices, the right to the rule of law; that's what I work for, and I wasn't going to fuck you."

"Do you imagine that the US represents those ideas? You're brainwashed, kid. That may have been true 200 years ago. It isn't anymore. Those ideas are dead. Are you aware that a majority of American citizens support the use of torture if it will keep them safe? They don't mind the government spying on them; reading their e-mails, listening to their phone calls? The America you're talking about is dead and in the grave. When the old hippies die, there won't be a dissenting voice in the country. You're becoming a nation of fascists. I think I'll just stay here."

"You're wrong, Macalastair. I mean, you're right, but I'm going to keep fighting for that. We can't be hermits and run away from all the problems of society. You're a coward. You just ran away."

"Let's see, have you forgotten the kidnapping, torture and bondage?"

"No, but that won't happen again. I won't let it happen."

"Thanks honey, but there's nothing you can do about it. Do you know why they want me?"

"Yes, you can do something paranormal. I don't know what."

"I can tell whether or not you're lying to me, Caden. I can tell if you're going to harm me. I can tell if there's anyone hostile close to me. I can tell you what they're going to do before they do it, and what I can do to stop it. I can tell that about people I care about, too. You can call it precognition, Spider Sense or whatever you want. They want to know how I can do that. I can't tell them. I have no idea. There are thousands of people in the world like that. We keep in touch with one another. The CIA wants to round them up and use us to facilitate their complete control of every area of people's lives. They were trying to torture the identities of those people out of me. I would rather die."

"Jesus, Macalastair. I had no idea. So you knew all along that I wasn't going to harm you?"

"No, I still don't know that. You haven't made up your mind. You're going to tell them where I am. That's going to harm me. The only way I see to stop that is to kill you. I could leave you here. You'd die here. Damn it, Caden. What am I going to do with you?"

"Please, Macalastair, don't let me die. I won't tell anyone."

"Now you're lying. You can't lie to me Caden."

"Shit, I forgot. I wasn't lying about not dying."

"I know. I don't want you to die."

"Then help me," she begged. "Let me convince you that we need your help. Convince me that I shouldn't tell. Don't just kill me! Please, Macalastair. I have a broken leg and a concussion. If you don't help me, I'm going to freeze. How can you live with yourself if you let that happen?"

"I can't," I told her. "How can you live with yourself if you rat me out and they torture me to death?"

"They won't do that."

"Bullshit; that's exactly what they'll do. I have an idea. I'll take you home with me. We'll get you better and then we'll work out a way for me to turn myself in. We'll meet somewhere here in Norway. I'll give myself up and we'll see what happens. If they try to take me, will you believe me?"

"Yes, that seems like a good plan. What if they do try to take you? What will you do?"

"I'll kill them all. Can you live with that?"

"I don't know. Do you have to do that?" she asked.

"What do you think?" I asked her. "Should I sing them to sleep? Should I tell them jokes and romance them into letting me go? They'll try to drug me, kidnap me and take me back. I know that's what's going to happen. I can see it. I know how I'll get away. I'm going to kill seven of them. Five more are going to live. You're going to get hurt, but not badly."

"My God, you really believe that, don't you?"

"I know it, but you don't. It's not a matter of a guess. I know exactly what's going to happen. I'm going to kill seven people for you, Caden. You better be damn grateful."

"You're wrong, Macalastair. It's not going to go down that way."

"Okay, you can think that if you want. It's late and we need to rest. I've got a nasty trek ahead of me tomorrow. Let's get some sleep."

I unrolled an Ensolite pad and my sleeping bag. When I started pulling off my clothes, she watched. I could tell she wanted to say something.

"What?" I asked.

"Jesus, you're huge, Macalastair. Your muscles have muscles. How much do you weigh?"

"Somewhere around 280," I told her. "I'm six feet six, in case you were wondering."

"Do you have another bag?" she asked.

"No, you have to sleep with me."

"I usually like for a guy to take me dancing before I sleep with him," she said.

I laughed a long time at that. "We're just sleeping, Caden. I'll romance you later."

"Are we sleeping naked?" she asked.

"What if I said yes?"

"I'd say I'm not tired."

"I'm leaving on my cold gear," I told her. "I suggest you do the same. Our clothes are wet and we'll sweat in the bag. We may have to get down to our underwear. It's a good bag, kid. We could sleep outside in it."

"You're going to have to help me," she said.

I unbuttoned her pants again and pulled them off. She winced as they went over her leg. I thought it might really be broken. Her coat was next and she had on a ballistic vest underneath. I took that off and pulled the black sweater over her head. She had on a cold gear top and I left that. I helped her hobble over to the sleeping bag and she got in. I rolled up the blanket for a pillow and climbed in after her. When I zipped the bag it was very cold and she shivered, but it warmed up rapidly. We lay there for ten minutes until finally she pushed my shoulder.

"This is ridiculous. I'm roasting. Why do you have such a warm bag? This isn't going to work. I'm starting to sweat. I can't sleep like this.

"Okay, it is uncomfortable," I said. "I'll get out and we can strip off."

I unzipped the bag and stood up. I stripped down to my boxers and helped her get off the bottoms of her cold gear. Those little red panties were on display again.

"It seems that you are destined to show me those panties," I told her.

She laughed. "Well, you're the first guy who's ever seen them. You should consider yourself privileged. I just bought them last week. If I'd known I was going to be in someone's sleeping bag, I'd have worn granny panties."

She sat up and pulled the top over her head. Her bra matched the panties. I didn't want to look but I couldn't help myself. She blushed and slid down in the bag. I climbed back in and zipped it up. It wasn't intended for two, especially if one of them was my size. I could feel her hip against mine. I rolled away, facing away from her, and drifted off. I had good dreams. I was holding Sarah in my arms and she felt amazing. Hair tickled my nose. I opened my eyes and it wasn't blonde. It wasn't Sarah. This was flame red and very long. It was all over us. Caden was spooned up against me with her head on my arm.