Free AWOL with the Operative by Jean Thomas Page B

speak now.
    “I’m not foolish enough to celebrate, but is it possible we’ve lost our friends?”
    “We’ve managed to shake them for now, but they’re out there somewhere.”
    “Any theories on that?”
    He shrugged. “Maybe just waiting for the snow to clear so they can try finding us again in the chopper. They certainly can’t take to the air in this weather.”
    Eve had another question for him. “Is it my imagination, or has the land been sloping gradually downward? Not that I’m objecting, mind you. Down is certainly better than up.”
    “You’re not imagining it. I noticed it last night when I managed to outrun the goons on our tail. I’m thinking we’ve entered a drainage area.”
    “Which means?”
    “That there’s a stream ahead of us. And if there is, it’s bound to lead somewhere. Like a settlement of some kind on a riverbank.”
    “Ah, that’s why you chose this direction.”
    “Hopefully, it’s there and within our reach.”
    If we don’t perish first from hunger and cold, she thought, but she didn’t put that into words. She noticed he was looking at her and that he had a big, goofy grin on his face. “What?”
    “Hate to tell you, angel, but your nose is running.”
    She would have resented any other man calling her angel like this all the time, but from Sam it felt good.
    “Oh, great—just what a woman wants to hear. That her nose is leaking.” She opened her shoulder bag and began to search through its contents. “I know I have tissues in here somewhere, but wouldn’t you know I can’t find one when I need it.”
    “Maybe Ken Redfeather carried a supply.” His hands began to grope through the pockets of the coat he had inherited from their pilot. He was digging into a breast pocket when she noticed a strange look cross his face.
    “Something wrong?”
    “Uh, no. Sorry, there don’t seem to be any tissues in the coat.”
    “It’s all right. I’ve found my package of them.”
     
     
    It was true he hadn’t located any tissues in the pilot’s coat. But what he had discovered buried in the depths of that breast pocket had been far more interesting, he thought as they continued on their way. And potentially useful. He hoped.
    It would have been just a bit too obvious if he’d gone and withdrawn any of those foil-wrapped packets. Not that Sam had needed to do that, anyway. His fingers were familiar enough with the product to tell him exactly what they were. Condoms.
    Ol’ Ken Redfeather, he decided with a private little chuckle, must have been planning a good time for himself after he delivered them to their destination. For all Sam knew, the pilot had had a girlfriend waiting for him down in Calgary. Too bad that connection would never happen now.
    Sad really, and not something he should be chuckling about. Especially when he had so much else to occupy his attention. The weather, in particular. Not only was it snowing harder with a rising wind, but the temperature had plummeted to a frigid level. He was worried about Eve.
    “How are you doing?” he asked her.
    “Managing. But a pair of skis would make the going a lot easier. The downhill variety.”
    She was right. They were currently descending a long hill, where the snow was building so rapidly that plowing through it was increasingly difficult.
    The hill sparked another memory for him, this time from his boyhood. He could see himself sledding down just such a hill and out across a frozen pond. Somewhere in rural Michigan, he thought. He must have been raised in Michigan.
    He hoped for other breakthroughs to follow that one, but none occurred. He’d just have to be patient and wait for them.
    “Is it only in the desert that you see a mirage?” she wondered, peering ahead of them through the falling curtain of white. “Or is it possible to see one in a snowstorm?”
    “I wouldn’t know. Why?”
    “Because it’s either a mirage I’m seeing down there, or it’s that stream you promised me.”
    Sam could