Free 65 Below by Basil Sands Page B

with the kids.”
    “All right, then, no need to bother her.”
    “I assume you’ll want to talk to Marcus as well.”
    “Yeah, I do. Where’s he staying?”
    “Back at his granddad’s cabin. But I don’t think he’s home. While he was here earlier, he got a call from a friend in Moose Creek who was repairing his granddad’s old hunting rifle and made a trip out that way. That was about seven o’clock. He probably won’t be home till pretty late. The friend over there has a little brewery going, and Marcus is a stickler about not getting behind the wheel if he’s even smelled alcohol. Then he’s taking off into the bush early in the morning. He’ll be running a trap line for some Air Force friend of his who got a permit to trap along the back of the Eielson training area. It’s going to be at least Wednesday before he gets back, and that will be after two days and a night sleeping in the bush.”
    “Does he have a cell phone?”
    “Nope. He doesn’t even have electricity at his place.”
    “If you see him, tell him a trooper will be contacting him when he gets back. Don’t mention me, because I don’t know if I’ll be the one to come back out.”
    “I’ll pass the word,” Linus said. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
    “I will.”
    At that, she turned and walked out of the store. Her body grew tense as she climbed back into her cruiser. She made the trip to Marcus’s cabin and pulled into the driveway.
    Memories flooded her mind when she saw the small log house. A wisp of smoke slowly curled up from the chimney, lit by the moon that peeked through the clouds. As a teenaged girl, she had fantasized about marrying Marcus and living in this tiny house in the woods. It had been their private hideaway as youths, a place where they planned and schemed and let their hearts indulge in one other’s dreams. Now as she looked at the squat structure, shadowy and dark, she hoped only to get out of here with that same heart still intact.
    The house looked empty. It was nearly 11:30. A snowmobile sat parked beside the house, but there was no other vehicle. While he didn’t have a phone, she was sure he had a car. She got out of the warm police cruiser and walked to the door of the cabin.
    Lonnie rapped loudly on the door with her gloved knuckles, but there was no response. She took out her Maglite and repeated the knock with its metal handle. After several seconds, there was still no movement in the house. In the center of the door was a small corkboard with half a dozen thumbtacks stuck randomly in it, Marcus’s low-tech version of an answering machine. She pulled a notepad and a felt-tip Sharpie pen from her pocket and scrawled a brief note.
    Mr . Johnson ,
    Please contact AST as soon as possible.
    Re: suspects you encountered @ store 12/17
    She didn’t sign it. Instead, she wrote the AST direct phone number on the bottom of the note, then tacked it to the corkboard and left.

Chapter 6

    Flashback
    Thursday, May 7th, 1998
    Stonehouse Barracks
    43 Commando
    Her Majesty’s Royal Marine Corps
    Plymouth Naval Base, England
    “All right, you lot! On your feet!” bellowed Colour Sergeant Reggie Smoot in a thick Scots accent as he entered the NCO’s lounge room of the Royal Marines Stonehouse Barracks at Plymouth Naval Base. The sergeants and corporals of 43 Commando rose from their various leisurely activities as the Colour Sergeant continued. “This is Gunnery Sergeant Marcus Johnson, United States Marine Corps, 2nd Force Recon. He’s going to be with you all for the next twelve months on an exchange duty. He is a real Sea Daddy, with a dozen years in. He did a complete pass out of the Commando Course back in ’89. He earned a right to the Globe & Buster, so don’t give him no shite or you’ll get a beasting you won’t forget. Understood?”
    “Yes sir!” came the stout reply from the twenty-some men in the room.
    “Oh!” he added as an afterthought, “and don’t try to